that it was not possible oor Kornies
that it was not possible
Vertalings in die woordeboek Engels - Kornies
na yllys
Geskatte vertalings
Vertoon algoritmies gegenereerde vertalings
voorbeelde
Advanced filtering
Voorbeelde moet herlaai word.
that it was not possible
Fisten!langbot langbot
Recently I saw some thoughts from someone inside the language community saying how ‘it’s not yet possible to raise a child in the language and that there isn’t yet a child raised in the language’. That’s not the way to encourage people to try. I was surprised to see this because I know of people raised to speak Cornish. But this did no more than to fuel my hope to continue on as well and I hope Neythen will not be the only child of his generation speaking Cornish.
Ple'th esowgh?langbot langbot
Just down the road, the University Café (not as popular as Tamani’s) was in better shape and so I cheerfully got into their cupboards and fridge to stock up on essential items. I took mainly stuff that was in tins and cans so that it would last. They had a stock of tinned hams and plum puddings, apparently left over from Christmas. Fine by me – so I took as many as I could carry in the back- pack I retrieved along the way. (Don’t ask me who was wearing it at the time – they weren’t going to need it again, I promise you.) I tried to encourage David to share the load with me – I even found another back-pack for him. But he was having none of it. Apparently, zombies don’t do the beast-of-burden thing. (A fact well worth remembering, I’m sure.) In any event, David was getting twitchy again. At first, I thought it must have been hunger (oh no!) but he was just bored. I offered him an apple that I had just swiped from the University Café. He snatched at it and threw it away in disgust. (What had I been thinking? Fruit? For a zombie?) So, I selected another from a nearby basket and bit into it. It wasn’t that fresh – it had been sitting around for over a week – but it was okay (and, unlike the pancakes, it didn’t make me throw up.) How to avoid going back to Union House – that was the pressing problem. Where would any self-respecting zombie prefer to go – other than a charnel house full of zombies (and one psychopathic cat)? Then it struck me: “Hey, Dave! Wanna go to the cemetery? You know, the big one that’s just near here?” He stopped twitching. That was a good sign. But did he know what I was talking about? Possibly, he did. Zombie intelligence is not an easy thing to understand – and, in David’s case, it was complicated by the fact (as I knew) that he could tap into my own mind to boost whatever wit he had been left with following his death. I was like a poorly connected hard-drive, I suppose (though hard-drives, external or otherwise, were unheard of at that time).
My re bia ow redya an lyver ma.langbot langbot
William died in 1796, and because of this it is possible to say that by the beginning of the nineteenth century the language was not often to be heard on the streets. This does not mean that the language was not spoken at all, only that it became harder to find. A well-known speaker at this time was the farmer John Davey of Boswednack, who was born in 1812. John learnt Cornish from his father and according to some sources could converse on simple subjects, although it is not clear how much of the language he had. In spite of this John gets the credit for having written Odl y Cranken (the Cranken Rhyme), the last song in traditional Cornish. John died in 1891, and by this point academics had now begun to record the language and started on the road to reviving it. A Sketch of Cornish Grammar by Edwin Norris was published in 1859 by the Oxford University Press as notes to assist people in reading manuscripts in traditional Cornish.
I a vynn gweres.langbot langbot
To tell the truth, he was very reluctant to start, now that it had come to the point. Bag End seemed a more desirable residence than it had for years, and he wanted to savour as much as he could of his last summer in the Shire. When autumn came, he knew that part at least of his heart would think more kindly of journeying, as it always did at that season. He had indeed privately made up his mind to leave on his fiftieth birthday: Bilbo’s one hundred and twenty-eighth. It seemed somehow the proper day on which to set out and follow him. Following Bilbo was uppermost in his mind, and the one thing that made the thought of leaving bearable. He thought as little as possible about the Ring, and where it might lead him in the end. But he did not tell all his thoughts to Gandalf. What the wizard guessed was always difficult to tell.
Ygor an darasow na!langbot langbot
A tentative answer was not too hard to guess at. The corpses that remained lying about were, almost uniformly, quite incomplete. Indeed, some of the ‘corpses’ were actually just ‘bits’. So, it seemed there needed to be enough of the victim still hanging together before reanimation was possible. (Poor Meryl was definitely not going to make a re-appearance – but she was a girl anyway and, as you will recall, girls don’t become zombies.) So, how much was enough? Yes, I’ll admit it was a macabre question to ponder – but a question that seemed not out of place as we approached the Swanston Street exit of the Uni campus. I stood on the footpath, still holding David’s clammy hand. “Which way shall we go, Mate?” I asked. “Into the city or shall we go into Carlton?” He grunted. Maybe he understood the question but his grunted answer was unhelpful. (Hey, he was still male – I think.) So, we headed off towards Lygon Street, Carlton. Nowadays, there’s a lovely big supermarket in the main street – but not in the early 1970’s. As we walked down Faraday Street, I saw the familiar sight of the Carlton Movie-house – the ‘Bug House’ as it was then called. But this was not the establishment I needed – that was next door: “Genevieve’s”. (Café? Restaurant? Can’t recall what it called itself. It was always just “Genevieve’s” – named after an old cinematic car, as I recall.) “Fancy a cappuccino, Dave?” I asked. “I’m dying for a caffeine fix.” David seemed uninterested. Do zombies like a strong coffee? They look like they need it. No matter. In any event, I couldn’t get the cappuccino machine up and running and had to make do with ‘instant’ – yuck!
Eus arghans dhywgh?langbot langbot
After I composed myself, I realised that we had the rest of the day to fill in. I’m sure David would happily have gone back to the Hell-hole at Union House – so that he could lounge around with his zombie mates. But I was not going to cross swords again with that bitch-face “Gween” if I could possibly help it. “Hey, Dave! I’ve got a treat for you,” I exclaimed suddenly. “I’m going to take you to the movies.” I gave him no choice and firmly herded him out of Genevieve’s and into the Bug House. I had no idea if he still remembered what a movie was but I didn’t care. David was going to the movies whether he liked it or not. The shabby foyer of the Bug House was relatively untouched. There must have been no-one in it when the Apocalypse passed through. Did it happen at mid-day or thereabouts? No ‘session time’ then, I suppose – not during the week at a small single-screen suburban theatre. (Can you remember what one of those was?) I walked up the narrow staircase to the projection room. Now, you may think I would have no chance of getting the projector operating so that we would view a movie. But that’s where you’d be wrong. Dead wrong. This was in the days before video recorders, well before DVD’s, Blue-Ray and so on. So, schoolteachers needed to know how to operate simple movie projectors to show educational films to their classes. I was no teacher – but my dad was! Dad had done a proper Bell and Howell course and come out with a proper projectionist certificate – very pretty, very impressive. I asked him to bring the school projector home and show me how it worked. He obliged my demands and thus I knew the rudiments of the projectionist’s craft. That said, the projectors (there were 2) that confronted me in the projectionist room of the Carlton Movie House were very different to the one that Dad had brought home from school. A lot bigger. A lot more buttons and levers. I got one of them working in under half an hour (but I think I might have, sort of, broken the other one – sorry, Mr Projectionist).
Prag y fynnydh y wodhvos?langbot langbot
7 sinne gevind in 10 ms. Hulle kom uit baie bronne en word nie nagegaan nie.