turn right down oor Kornies

turn right down

Vertalings in die woordeboek Engels - Kornies

diyskynna dhe'n deghow

voorbeelde

turn right down
/ diyskynna dhe'n deghow / / /

Pass the mills and turn right down Blowing House Lane.
Passyewgh an melinyow ha diyskynna dhe'n deghow war Vownder an Fog.

It was, like all the vehicles, already pointed towards the entrance gate. I presumed this was so that the soldiers, like firemen, could spring into action at a moment’s notice. In any event, this meant that no backing and turning was required. We just needed to push forwards and gain speed. As we neared the gate, David jumped into the passenger seat at my command – and I slid into the driver’s seat, leaving the door ajar. We were travelling at around 15 kph and I could see the guard, still slumped in his chair as we cruised past. The ignition was on. I was ready to slip the clutch to start the motor whenever necessary. We bumped over the apron of the driveway, turned right and were fifty metres down College Crescent before I needed to do so. As the engine coughed into life, I glanced in the rear-view mirror – the guard had not moved. He was still slumped at his post. We had needed this stroke of luck because, according to my figuring, we were now behind schedule – and we still had a train to catch.
Yth esa tal an karr-les, kepar hag oll an re erell, wor’tu ha’n yet-entrans. My a dhesevas bos y’n fordh na may kalla an soudoryon, kepar ha tangasoryon, lamma a-dhistowgh yn gweythres ter heb lett. Yn neb kas, nyns esa edhomm dhyn a dreylya an karr-les (po mos war-dhelergh ynno). Res o dhyn hepken y herdhya yn-rag rag kavoes toeth lowr. Ha ni omneshes dhe’n yet, Davydh a lammas y’n eseth-dremenyas (herwydh ow hommandyans) ha my a slynkyas y’n eseth-lywyer, ow kasa an daras igor. Yth esen ni ow mos a-dro dhe 15km an our hag y hyllyn gweles an gwithyas, hwath gyllys yn gronn yn y gador, ha ni orth y dremena yn tidros. Skwych-enowans o yn fyw. Prest ov dhe slynkya an gravell rag dalleth an jynn byth pan o res. Ni eth a-dreus apron an fordh gans boemm byghan ha treylya a- dhyghow. Ni re alsa 50m a-hys Kromman Kollji kyns bos edhomm dhymm a slynkya an gravell. Ha’n jynn pesys yn fyw, my a viras y’n gweder-mires – ny waysa an gwithyas. Hwath o ev yn gronn war y soedh. Yth esa edhomm dhyn a’n chons na drefenn, herwydh ow halkonieth, agan bos a-dhiwedhes. Henn yw leverel, nyns en herwydh an termyn re via towlennys genev – ha res o dhyn kachya unn dren kyns oll.

But this was not the case – and I was perfectly capable of driving this thing, at low speed and in low gears, for the required distance. For you see, during my previous Summer holidays, I had worked in the yard at IPEC (a now-defunct trucking firm). I was, of course, only paid to load trucks but, from time to time, I was called upon to shift trucks in the yard to get them out of the way of essential operations. Shit! I knew quite enough to shift this baby – at 5 mph or so. Having moved the somewhat tattered driver’s seat (the driver must have been a much bigger man than I was – and tough on the fabric) and then, having re- acquainted myself with the basic controls, I crunched the gears loudly and we were off – at a crawl. I had time to try the radio – still no broadcasts worth listening to. No news. No information. What were ‘the authorities’ up to and why weren’t they here, rescuing us? After an uncommonly long time, we reached the intersection of Lygon Street and Princes Street. I executed a right-hand turn, taking down a traffic sign in the process – no matter. Then, after a further crawl towards College Crescent, I decided to abandon the idea of actually entering the cemetery. (Perhaps I wasn’t quite as good at driving trucks as I had thought.) Meantime, I caught David, in the (much less shabby) passenger seat, waving at the numerous zombies who had stopped at the side of the road to observe the spectacle of my miserable driving. Cheeky bastard! None of them waved back – I guess waving isn’t a regular zombie-thing. (And David was, and is, no regular zombie.) I pulled the truck up outside the main entrance of the cemetery and ‘parked’ in the middle of the road. (There was, of course, no other traffic to be obstructed.) I left it idling. “Come on, Dave,” I said. “We’re going to get Paul and Charles.”
Mes nyns o yndella – my a ylli yn tien lywya an dra ma, toeth isel ha maglenn isel, dres an pellder o res – drefenn bos edhomm dhywgh godhvos, y’n dy’goelyow re dremensa, my re obersa y’n garth IPEC (kowethas marow lemmyn). Y fien vy pes, heb mar, rag karga an kertow mes, menowgh, y fien gelwys rag aga gwaya y’n garth rag gasa oberennow o res pesya. Kawgh! My a wodhya moy es lowr rag gwaya an kertik ma – y doeth ogas dhe 5 mildir an our. My a janyas le an gador-lywyer – esa nebes fregys. Yth heveli bos an lywer brassa yn feur es dell en vy. (Yonker moen en vy ena.) Yth heveli keffrys y vos rust gans pann an gador. My a dhasdhyskas yn uskis maystri an jynnow- rewlyans selyek hag ena krakkya yn ughel an maglennow. Yth en ni war agan fordh – yn-unn-gramya. Yth esa termyn lowr dhe woslowes orth an radyo – hwath darlesansow vyth. (Y’n lyha, nyns esa darlesansow mann may talvien bos goslowys orta.) Nowodhow vyth. Derivadow vyth. Pyth o towlow ‘an awtoritys’? Ha, dres henna, prag nag esens i omma, orth agan selwel? Wosa hirneth tanow, ni a dhrehedhas krowsfordh stretow Lygon ha Princes. My a wrug torn dhe’n barth dhyghow, ha my kuntellys arwoedh daromres – ny vern. Ena, wosa kramyans arall wor’ tu ha Kromman Kollji, my a erviras forsakya tybyans dhe entra y’n ynkleudhva. (Martesen nyns o mar dha ow kreft avel lywyer-kert.) Y’n kettermyn na, my a aspias Davydh (y’n gador, le usyes, an tremenyas) dhe wevya orth meur a zombis re hedhsa war ryb an fordh rag mires orth an gwari- mir, ow lywyans euthyk. Bastard tont! Denvyth yntredha ny wrug daskorr gwevyans – nyns yw hemma herwydh usadow an zombis gemmyn, dell grysav – mes nyns o, ha nyns yw, Davydh zombi kemmyn vyth. An kert a hedhis a-dherag dhe jyf entrans an ynkleudhva, ‘parkyes’ yn kres an fordh. (Nyns esa, heb mar, daromres arall bos lettyes.) Y remaynya an jynn- disel owth oberi hwath yn lent. “Deun yn rag, ‘Dhav,” yn-medhav. “Y fynnyn ni mos rag kavoes Powl ha Charles.”

The woods on either side became denser; the trees were now younger and thicker; and as the lane went lower, running down into a fold of the hills, there were many deep brakes of hazel on the rising slopes at either hand. At last the Elves turned aside from the path. A green ride lay almost unseen through the thickets on the right; and this they followed as it wound away back up the wooded slopes on to the top of a shoulder of the hills that stood out into the lower land of the river-valley. Suddenly they came out of the shadow of the trees, and before them lay a wide space of grass, grey under the night. On three sides the woods pressed upon it; but eastward the ground fell steeply and the tops of the dark trees, growing at the bottom of the slope, were below their feet. Beyond, the low lands lay dim and flat under the stars. Nearer at hand a few lights twinkled in the village of Woodhall.
An koes ryb an hyns a dheuth ha bos tewwa; an gwydh o yowynkka ha brassa; dell wrug mos an bownder isella, ow mos yn-nans yn kris an breow, yth esa lies perthi a gollwydh dhe’n lederow a sevis dhe’n dhew du. Wor’tiwedh, an Elfow a dreylyas a-denewen diworth an hyns. Yth esa lannergh gwyrdh hir, ogas ha mes a wel dres an goedhyli a-dhyghow; hag i a’n sywyas dell wrug ev mos yn-bann an lederow gwydhek dhe wartha skoedh an breow a ystynnas y’n tiryow isella nans an avon. Distowgh, i a dheuth mes a skeusennow an gwydh, hag a-ragon yth esa aswa efan a wels, loes yn-dann ebron an nos. Dhe dri thu, an koes a’s kyrghynnas; mes dhe’n howldrevel, an dor a goedhas yn teserth, hag yth esa pennow an gwydh ow tevi dhe-woeles an leder, yn-dann aga dewdroes. Dresta, an tiryow isel a ystynnas godewl ha gwastas yn-dann an ster. Nessa, nebes golowys a derlentris yn treveglos Wudol.

On the fourth of July eighteen hundred and six We set sail from the sweet cove of Cork We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks For the grand city hall in New York 'Twas a wonderful craft, she was rigged fore-and-aft And oh, how the wild winds drove her She'd got several blasts, she'd twenty-seven masts And we called her the Irish Rover We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags We had two million barrels of stones We had three million sides of old blind horses hides We had four million barrels of bones We had five million hogs, we had six million dogs Seven million barrels of porter We had eight million bails of old nanny goats' tails In the hold of the Irish Rover There was awl Mickey Coote who played hard on his flute When the ladies lined up for his set He was tootin' with skill for each sparkling quadrille Though the dancers were fluther'd and bet With his sparse witty talk he was cock of the walk As he rolled the dames under and over They all knew at a glance when he took up his stance And he sailed in the Irish Rover There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee There was Hogan from County Tyrone There was Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff of work And a man from Westmeath called Malone There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule And fighting Bill Tracey from Dover And your man Mick McCann from the banks of the Bann Was the skipper of the Irish Rover We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out And the ship lost it's way in the fog And that whale of the crew was reduced down to two Just myself and the captain's old dog Then the ship struck a rock, oh Lord what a shock The bulkhead was turned right over Turned nine times around, and the poor dog was drowned I'm the last of the Irish Rover
Peswara Gortheren mil eth kans ha hwegh Ni a woelyas yn mes Corcaigh hweg Ha goelya dhe ves gans brykkys yn gorhel Rag hel Evrog Nowydh mar deg Hi o lester pur vrav – lovanys 'lergh a-rag Ha fatel wre hy lywya an gwynsow gwyls Godhevel hwythow meur, seyth warn ugens gwern pur hir Ha henwys Gwandryas 'Werdhon Dhyn ni unn milyon argh a kwethow Sligo margh Dhyn ni dew vilyon balyer a ven Dhyn ni tri milyon pall a geher margh dall Dhyn ni peswar milyon balyer eskern Dhyn ni pymp milyon kath ha hwegh milyon rath Ha seyth milyon balyer a Borter Dhyn ni eth milyon trok a lostow gavar dhrog Y'n gorhel Gwandryas ‘Werdhon. Yth esa down yn y sorn Mickey Coote ha tollgorn Pan omrestra benynes rag dons Ev a seni marthys brav, dhodho lies quadrille skav Kyn fe skwith an dhonsoryon dre jons Gans y geskows didhan, ev o den prowt ha glan Ha'n damyow veu rollyes der-dro dhodho I 'wre aswonn yn skav pan esa a'y sav Bos marner Gwandryas ‘Werdhon. Yth esa Barney McGee dhiworth glannow an Lee Yth esa Hogan a Gonteth Tyrone Yth esa Johnny McFail ha kas o ganso hwel Ha den a West Meath o Malone Yth esa William ap Prys neb o medhow pupprys Trigys ova ev yn Carmarthen Ha pur splann, Mick McCann dhiworth glannow teg an Bann Ev o lywyas Gwandryas 'Werdhon Seyth bledhen fest drudh o pan dardhas brygh rudh Ha'n gorhel y'n niwl kellys o Ha'n para brav ha tew a lehas bys y’n dew Saw my ha'n ki koth hwath der-dro Nena skwattya karrek vras, re’m fe skruth divlas Treylyes veu an gorhel yn tien, Naw-weyth a-der-dro, ha'n ki koth marow o Ha'n diwedh Gwandryas 'Werdhon