that it were to be oor Kornies
that it were to be
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be
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voorbeelde
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Voorbeelde moet herlaai word.
that it were to be
Ow thas yw.langbot langbot
The Jews urgently wanted him to be put to death. They were giving reasons for it but they were falsely based. pilate knew that, therefore he had him sent immediately to caiaphas to judge him.
Nyns yw da gans Tom keun.langbot langbot
‘It was taken from him,’ said Gandalf. ‘The strength of the Elves to resist him was greater long ago; and not all Men were estranged from them. The Men of Westernesse came to their aid. That is a chapter of ancient history which it might be good to recall; for there was sorrow then too, and gathering dark, but great valour, and great deeds that were not wholly vain. One day, perhaps, I will tell you all the tale, or you shall hear it told in full by one who knows it best.
Yth esov owth eva leth.langbot langbot
But if anyone says that the language of the ancient Britons could come to this height also if were they luckier, I am so far from denying the language of my mother and my country, that for its sake I am ready to say thus also, and [the sooner lest] that were a book of the Duchess of Cornwall's Progress be found in my childrens' hands hereafter, some could be prepared to say that I am making little of Cornish, since I would make myself to be come over sea, but it is to be seen with what good heart I say all the topic for Cornish;
Ev a gemmer mel yn le sugra.langbot langbot
Christ's garments were divided, four parts being made of them by four soldiers of repute, a share for each soldier. his robe was so beautifully made that they were unwilling to divide it. lots were cast upon it to see who should get the whole robe.
Yma lies lyver dhe’m tas.langbot langbot
About mid-day they came to a hill whose top was wide and flattened, like a shallow saucer with a green mounded rim. Inside there was no air stirring, and the sky seemed near their heads. They rode across and looked northwards. Then their hearts rose, for it seemed plain that they had come further already than they had expected. Certainly the distances had now all become hazy and deceptive, but there could be no doubt that the Downs were coming to an end. A long valley lay below them winding away northwards, until it came to an opening between two steep shoulders. Beyond, there seemed to be no more hills. Due north they faintly glimpsed a long dark line. That is a line of trees,' said Merry, 'and that must mark the Road. All along it for many leagues east of the Bridge there are trees growing. Some say they were planted in the old days.'
Hemm yw yey.langbot langbot
I heard something like that about the rock Mean Omber; therefore if something is to be done to save Cornish, it must be by others that are born here, and well learned, found but not often, for they are but few, just two or three that I know of, among them one is [...?...] and learned, beyond all the others that were long before them, or will likely come after him.
An ki ma yw bras.langbot langbot
Before long, washed and refreshed, the hobbits were seated at the table, two on each side, while at either end sat Goldberry and the Master. It was a long and merry meal. Though the hobbits ate, as only famished hobbits can eat, there was no lack. The drink in their drinking-bowls seemed to be clear cold water, yet it went to their hearts like wine and set free their voices. The guests became suddenly aware that they were singing merrily, as if it was easier and more natural than talking.
Farshad ov.langbot langbot
Tellurium is a chemical element with the symbol Te and atomic number 52. It is a brittle, mildly toxic, rare, silver-white metalloid. Tellurium is chemically related to selenium and sulfur, all three of which are chalcogens. It is occasionally found in native form as elemental crystals. Tellurium is far more common in the Universe as a whole than on Earth. Its extreme rarity in the Earth's crust, comparable to that of platinum, is due partly to its formation of a volatile hydride that caused tellurium to be lost to space as a gas during the hot nebular formation of Earth.[7] Tellurium-bearing compounds were first discovered in 1782 in a gold mine in Kleinschlatten, Transylvania (now Zlatna, Romania) by Austrian mineralogist Franz-Joseph Müller von Reichenstein, although it was Martin Heinrich Klaproth who named the new element in 1798 after the Latin tellus 'earth'. Gold telluride minerals are the most notable natural gold compounds. However, they are not a commercially significant source of tellurium itself, which is normally extracted as a by-product of copper and lead production. Commercially, the primary use of tellurium is copper (tellurium copper) and steel alloys, where it improves machinability. Applications in CdTe solar panels and cadmium telluride semiconductors also consume a considerable portion of tellurium production. Tellurium is considered a technology-critical element. Tellurium has no biological function, although fungi can use it in place of sulfur and selenium in amino acids such as tellurocysteine and telluromethionine.[8] In humans, tellurium is partly metabolized into dimethyl telluride, (CH3)2Te, a gas with a garlic-like odor exhaled in the breath of victims of tellurium exposure or poisoning.
Ny allav vy diberth omma.langbot langbot
The sky was clear and the stars were growing bright. ‘It’s going to be a fine night,’ he said aloud. ‘That’s good for a beginning. I feel like walking. I can’t bear any more hanging about. I am going to start, and Gandalf must follow me.’ He turned to go back, and then slopped, for he heard voices, just round the corner by the end of Bagshot Row. One voice was certainly the old Gaffer’s; the other was strange, and somehow unpleasant. He could not make out what it said, but he heard the Gaffer’s answers, which were rather shrill. The old man seemed put out.
A Frynk yth ov devedhys.langbot langbot
Marvellous! Hours of fun for the whole family. It made me proud to be a Roman Catholic. (I shouldn’t really be so disrespectful of the owners’ tastes in religious art. The little light in the basilica actually proved to be invaluable inside the otherwise gloomy crypt.) Anyway, there was no doubt as to the ancestry of the folk who had so generously provided my brother and me with this precious haven. And no expense had been spared, it seemed. In one of the niches, was a brand-new – and unoccupied – coffin of extreme grandeur and ornamentation. Whom was this waiting for? None could say since it did not yet bear a plaque. Given that it had obviously been made to order – and was of the highest specification – my guess was that it could only have been made for the (still-living?) patriarch or matriarch of the family. Just a guess, though. And, sure, there were plenty of other expensive fittings inside – including some which appeared to be made of gold and silver (or, at least, were plated with gold and silver) – but this wasn’t the most startling thing to me: it was the fact that the crypt had running water! There was no hot water, of course – let’s not get completely ridiculous – but there, in one dark corner of the room, sat a small water tap (with even a modest drain to catch any overflow). Why? Did the deceased family members get thirsty in the night and need to take a sip of water? I put this question to David – he was no help. I thought about this for a while – in the circumstances, there was nothing much else to do – then the obvious answer dawned on me. There were literally dozens of vases inside the crypt, mostly containing withered blooms. Who was going to lug water from outside to fill all these vessels on a regular basis? No-one would do it willingly. Far better to have the water piped in. Kinda sensible – in an extravagant sort of way. And now pretty handy for any living person – or even a zombie – who decided to move in!
Py par ki yw?langbot langbot
CHAPTER 19 WHY THE CAPTAIN WANTED A ZOMBIE Good news: neither David nor I received an immediate bullet to the brain. Bad news: both of us were blindfolded, bundled into the back of a military paddy-wagon and found ourselves bumping along a rural highway for a very, very long time. (Or did it just seem that way?) The paddy-wagon was roughly sprung to the point where I felt every pothole, every bump and undulation on that roadway – and there were many. My hands and feet were bound securely and so it was difficult to remain sitting upright. I couldn’t be sure what David was doing – other than roaring and moaning at irregular intervals. “Shut up, Dave!” I screamed – to no obvious effect. And the back of the paddy-wagon smelt distinctly of urine and vomit – both sharp and sour. My guess was that its usual occupants were soldiers who had had a big night on the town and needed some ‘assistance’ getting back to their base. When you close your eyes, travel time becomes distorted. I know of this from empirical research. What sort of research, you ask? Good question: try closing your eyes on the way home from work – whether travelling by train, tram or bus – and only open them when you think you have arrived at your train/tram/bus stop. Go on, try it. I guarantee you’ll always re-open your eyes long before you get near your accustomed stop (unless, of course, you fall asleep). On this particular occasion, of course, I was blindfolded and had no idea of how long the trip actually took. So, I believed the trip was actually many hours longer than it really was. Does that make sense? No matter, it’s just another digression. In any event, the paddy-wagon eventually came to a juddering halt – but not before I was physically spent from the effort of remaining upright whilst bound hand and foot.
Ny allav vy dos haneth.langbot langbot
It was only when the heavy machine-guns were being set up that the zombies started rushing at the troops in the vain hope of a fresh feed. What then followed was the familiar carnage that I had witnessed at the University massacre. The zombies were blown to pieces with several rounds from bazookas and those that made it through those blasts were cut to bits by light machine gun fire. (Sten guns? Don’t know – not sure they were still being used in the early 1970’s by regular soldiers.) It was all over at the Fern Tree Gully town hall before the heavy machine guns were even set up and operative. The Aussie guys were pretty happy with what they had achieved and, later on, as they slaked their well-earned thirst with a ‘cleansing ale’ or five, the account of what had occurred became more and more detailed and vivid. (And exaggerated?) The Yanks had been sitting nearby – also taking in a ‘cleansing ale’ – but not joining in the Aussie celebrations. After all, the Yanks had yet to ‘see action’ and could not therefore share their own experiences. That was okay – each group left the other alone. Then, as the Aussies got a bit drunker and more boisterous, things started to take a turn for the worse. The Aussies started to brag about what they had done with the remains after the zombies had been ‘wasted’. And what they had done was not merely defiling the corpses by urinating on them or such like. Bits of zombies had been ‘arranged’ about the area of the town hall, ostensibly to scare off any other zombies from coming back into the area – but no-one believed that. Several of the zombies had still been twitching. These were ‘lynched’, strung up from lamp-posts – or placed, in sexual poses, like obscene garden gnomes in the front gardens of nearby houses. (This disgusted the fresh-faced GI’s, straight out of basic training – and Gately was man enough to say so. Very forthrightly.) “Ah, fuck me,” replied one of the Aussie raconteurs. “They’re just fuckin’ zombies, man. Cool down. They’re not even human.”
Yma tri flogh dhedhi.langbot langbot
‘But I reckon it was a nasty shock for those Sackville-Bagginses. They thought they were going to get Bag End, that time when he went off and was thought to be dead. And then he comes back and orders them off; and he goes on living and living, and never looking a day older, bless him! And suddenly he produces an heir, and has all the papers made out proper. The Sackville-Bagginses won’t never see the inside of Bag End now, or it is to be hoped not.’
Hir yw an losten na.langbot langbot
By the 19th century parishes were no longer able to cope with the burden of poor relief so a new system was introduced. Parishes were grouped into ‘Poor Law Unions’ with elected officials (‘Guardians’) responsible for administering the relief. Each union had a workhouse, and it was intended that relief would be given ‘inside’ the workhouse, rather than ‘outside’ (i.e. in the home). Kresen Kernow holds a range of documents, including minute books, for these unions which contain high levels of detail and mention individual names and cases, making them an excellent source for both family and social history. The Boards of Guardians were abolished in 1930 and their work was transferred to the County Council.
Nyns ov medhek.langbot langbot
It was the Sackville-Bagginses that were his downfall, as you might expect. One day, a year before the Party, I happened to be walking along the road, when I saw Bilbo ahead. Suddenly in the distance the S.-B.s appeared, coming towards us. Bilbo slowed down, and then hey presto! he vanished. I was so startled that I hardly had the wits to hide myself in a more ordinary fashion; but I got through the hedge and walked along the field inside. I was peeping through into the road, after the S.-B.s had passed, and was looking straight at Bilbo when he suddenly reappeared. I caught a glint of gold as he put something back in his trouser-pocket.
Ple’th yw trigys dha das gwynn?langbot langbot
All four variants were in use amongst speakers and students, and despite the differences in focus and academic approach, were all mutually intelligible. It was decided, however, that in order to progress the language to its fullest potential, a standard written form should be agreed upon for use in public life and schools, though each of the forms might well continue alongside this as they were all valid, academically valuable and highly researched variations of the language. The process for deciding upon the standard written form drew upon the knowledge of a wide range of Cornish users as well as the experience and advice of a Commission composed of eminent language experts with knowledge of similar situations elsewhere. All Cornish speakers were able to feed in their views, which formed a body of evidence to the Commission. The report from the Commission can be found on this website. The process resulted in the adoption of a Standard Written Form which draws from all of the systems used by speakers . This is now in use in formal education and public life and has already resulted in a greater use of the language in these areas of work, with new resources for schools and a new found enthusiasm for Cornish among public bodies. Speakers may continue to use whichever form they wish in private life, but the Standard Form enables greater strides to be made in developing the language publicly. It is our hope that all those involved with Cornish can now move forward together to take the language into the future.
Da yw gansa kana.langbot langbot
In this, he behaved like a small child who didn’t want to take a bath – but, in his case, I was unable to bribe him with a rubber ducky or toy boats to play with. Eventually, he relented and allowed me to strip and re-clothe him. He became “Lance-Corporal Kimson” but, as he didn’t have a speaking part in our next little drama, I did not need to bring this to his attention. After so much effort and time wasted, we stood together: a trim, fresh-faced sergeant and a grey-faced lance-corporal – both sans socks. “Time to help me with the coffin now, Dave,” I said. He had not previously understood this part of my plan, I’m sure, but, with a bit of play-acting and hand-gestures, he came to realize that I wanted him to take one end of the ornate coffin and lift it with me. After opening the steel crypt door wide, I returned and started to lift ‘my end’ of the box – and David, haltingly, copied what I was doing at his own end. “Shit! This thing is bloody heavy,” I said to myself. I thought perhaps I ought to abandon the plan as I was not at all sure I could sustain the weight for long enough to get it to one of the vehicles (about 75 – 100 metres from the crypt.) Before we even got through the door of the crypt, I was quivering from a load that was at the very limit of my physical ability. (I was a pretty skinny kid at the time.) The coffin, with its heavy timber construction and ornate metal handles, weighed, maybe, twice as much as a standard coffin. The problem was that we had only one coffin to choose from and, frankly, we were lucky to have that. David held his end of the thing aloft and was showing no signs of strain. (I thought zombies were supposed to be weak – but, noooo!) “Okay, Mate,” I groaned. “Put it down – gently.” He did so without fuss and I stood panting and sweating as I considered our options. Maybe, I thought, we could salvage a ‘used’ coffin from one of the niches in the crypt – one that was of a standard weight.
A yllons i gweles an lymnans?langbot langbot
I’m not sure if it were the jazz, as such, or the fact that the zombies had sated their blood-lust, but those few that remained on the upper floors of the building seemed to sink into an afternoon torpor. (Do tired zombies need a ‘nanna nap’? Dunno.) In any event, this provided me with an opportunity to re-acquaint myself with the undead brother who had shamelessly abandoned me to pursue his obscene carnal pleasures. “David!” I yelled as I emerged from the Gallery. “Get up, you vile monster. We’ve got stuff to do.” He remained torpid – staring at me with his dead eyes which seemed to say: “Fuck off, dickhead! I’m sleeping.” So, I kicked him into activity. He was unhappy, roared loudly and, for the first time, shaped to attack me. There were limits even to brotherly love, it seemed. I would have to remember that. I quickly softened my attitude to him: “Come on, Mate. Help me find a decent radio. There’s got to be one here.”
Da yw genev bara.langbot langbot
David and I had known this from early childhood. We never had to discuss it. We just knew it. It was always a source of wonderment when others failed to realise we were, deep down, one. Somehow, I still felt for my David-self, not far away. “They haven’t touched him,” I said. “No. not yet,” replied Jude. “He’s still lying outside the doors of the library – exactly where we put his body.” I had known this. He had not been torn apart by the beasts. I didn’t need to see him to know. “He’s not yet one of them,” I stated. “No,” replied Jude. “Sometimes the change takes a few minutes but, as you know, it sometimes takes hours. But he’s dead. We’re sure of that. No vital signs at all.” “Take me to him. I want to see him,” I demanded. “It will do no good,” said Jude soothingly. “I shall be the judge of that,” I snapped. Once again, she looked to her side, towards those who were, necessarily, taking control of the desperate and starving group of survivors. (The library’s store of snack food had long since been exhausted.) Jude received their ‘permission’ and turned back to me. Gently, she undid my bonds and released me. Rubbing my ankles and wrists, I stood stiffly. “You can go and see him,” said a male voice – and, without acknowledging the presence nor the permission of the other, I walked from the small private-study roomlet that I had been held in. Now to carry out some plans of my own: my Plan A, in fact. o0o
Dewdhek bloodh ov.langbot langbot
8Formerly, when you did not know God, you were slaves to those who by nature are not gods. 9But now that you know God—or rather are known by God—how is it that you are turning back to those weak and miserable forces? Do you wish to be enslaved by them all over again? 10You are observing special days and months and seasons and years! 11I fear for you, that somehow I have wasted my efforts on you.
Pyth yw agas hanow?langbot langbot
I took David’s hand and, once again, led him from the cell to ensure he did not try to make a meal of Ingrid – though she may well have been tasty. We travelled along several narrow, linoleum-paved passageways. The cattle prods remained poised and ready to strike to our front and to our rear. We passed some sort of common room that was being used by the GI’s. They had some electric Blues playing loudly. As we got closer, I saw through a window that some of them were actually dancing to the music. More than that, I recognised that the music was something from Muddy Waters’ “Electric Mud” album – which I had recently bought second-hand from the late, lamented John Clements record shop in the city. Blues, even electric blues, is not supposed to cheer one up – but this was the first music I had heard in a while (since our time in the Rowden White Gallery) – and so it did cheer me a little. I also saw, as we passed the common room, that almost all of the GI’s in it were black guys – and I wondered who, if anyone, was re-introducing segregation amongst the US troops. But, maybe, it was not deliberate – maybe it was just the music that attracted the black guys there. Later, I realised that the white guys were more partial to the songs of The Eagles – which had not then made it to our shores – and The Guess Who – who, as far as I can remember, never really did ‘make it’ here at all. (Apart from “American Woman”.) Anyway, we eventually arrived at a couple of swinging doors which led to a very spartan laboratory. Not much equipment to be seen here – and, what was there looked pretty old and battered. I supposed that the Australian Army didn’t put very much of its funds into medical research. (And that’s a very good thing, in my humble opinion.) David and I were ‘encouraged’ by the goons to be seated in chairs that looked suspiciously like the electric chair – made with massively heavy timber and fitted with thick, heavy leather straps to restrain arms, legs, torso and head. I didn’t resist. David did – and was struck simultaneously with jolts from three cattle prods for his trouble. He eventually came round to the idea of sitting down and allowing himself to be strapped in. Once this had occurred – and both David and I were securely strapped into our chairs – the Captain strode into the room. (Very brave, it seemed, was our Captain – no appearance until ‘the threat’ had been thoroughly eliminated.)
Ny vynn Tom dybri henna.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!
Tom a enowis an gantol gans an tanbren.langbot langbot
Kowethas an Yeth Kernewek (The Cornish Language Fellowship) is a Cornish language association which exists to promote, encourage and foster the use of the Cornish language.[1] It is represented on the Cornish Language Partnership. Unlike other Cornish language organisations[citation needed], Kowethas an Yeth Kernewek recognises the validity of all forms of revived Cornish, and membership is open to all. Nevertheless, although its members use all forms of Cornish, the society has long been associated by many with a particular spelling system called Kernewek Kemmyn. As a result, Kowethas an Yeth Kernewek received a boost[citation needed] in its membership after 1987 when The Cornish Language Board itself adopted, and declared its support for, Kernewek Kemmyn. It received a further boost[citation needed] when Paul Dunbar and Ken George claimed in their book Cornish for the 21st Century, published in 1997, that criticisms of this system were without foundation, as by that time Kernewek Kemmyn was very widely used - a large majority of people sitting examinations in the Cornish language were choosing to be examined in Kernewek Kemmyn. Kowethas an Yeth Kernewek respects the rights of its members to use whichever form of Cornish they choose, although its written business is conducted in Kernewek Kemmyn because that is the form used by the majority of its members. Every month the society publishes a Cornish Language magazine called An Gannas which consists of articles, stories, news, comment and puzzles.[2] Publishing is an important aspect of the work of the society. Amongst the variety of materials that have been produced are books, diaries, stories and language learning materials. Books with accompanying tapes and CDs are also published to assist beginners. The society also produces tea-towels, mugs, car stickers, pens, cards, T-shirts and other items for sale, all displaying the Cornish language. During the year the society organises a number of language days, often supported by Cornish music or dancing, giving Cornish speakers the opportunity of meeting together in a Cornish speaking environment.[citation needed] The society is closely associated with the running of Cornish classes throughout Cornwall and beyond. It maintains links with a wide range of other cultural organisations both in Cornwall and beyond, including language and educational organisations in other Celtic countries.[citation needed] The society is a voluntary body, (charity no. 1065527) and its funding is raised through grants, membership, sales and donations.
Nyns eus tokyn dhymm.langbot langbot
1 Thessalonians 3 Timothy's Visit 1Wherefore when we could no longer forbear, we thought it good to be left at Athens alone; 2and sent Timotheus, our brother, and minister of God, and our fellowlabourer in the gospel of Christ, to establish you, and to comfort you concerning your faith: 3that no man should be moved by these afflictions: for yourselves know that we are appointed thereunto. 4For verily, when we were with you, we told you before that we should suffer tribulation; even as it came to pass, and ye know. 5For this cause, when I could no longer forbear, I sent to know your faith, lest by some means the tempter have tempted you, and our labour be in vain. 6But now when Timotheus came from you unto us, and brought us good tidings of your faith and charity, and that ye have good remembrance of us always, desiring greatly to see us, as we also to see you: 7therefore, brethren, we were comforted over you in all our affliction and distress by your faith: 8for now we live, if ye stand fast in the Lord. 9For what thanks can we render to God again for you, for all the joy wherewith we joy for your sakes before our God; 10night and day praying exceedingly that we might see your face, and might perfect that which is lacking in your faith? 11Now God himself and our Father, and our Lord Jesus Christ, direct our way unto you. 12And the Lord make you to increase and abound in love one toward another, and toward all men, even as we do toward you: 13to the end he may stablish your hearts unblameable in holiness before God, even our Father, at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ with all his saints.
Nyns yns sur.langbot langbot
114 sinne gevind in 19 ms. Hulle kom uit baie bronne en word nie nagegaan nie.