which overwhelms oor Kornies

which overwhelms

Vertalings in die woordeboek Engels - Kornies

hag a overset

Soortgelyke frases

which overwhelm
hag a overset

voorbeelde

which overwhelms
/ hag a overset / / /

which overwhelm
/ hag a overset / / /

Enterprising sectors will enjoy a growing business community with an entrepreneurial spirit which is pushing hard to drive a productive and sustainable year round economy. I've been overwhelmed by the response to the album, and that so many people have come to see us play when so many don't understand a word, it's given me a lot of encouragement to sing in my own language and has confirmed to me that there is a place for Cornish in the world today and in the future.
Ranngylghyow negysiethel a wra gemeres plesour a gemeneth negys usi ow tevi gans spyrys aventurus hag usi ow herdhya yn kales dhe lewya erbysieth an vledhen oll askorrus ha sostenadow.

Having attended to our ablutions, I felt the need to rest again and to block out the intermittent roar of the ongoing slaughter outside. I was just too stuffed from what had been happening over the last week and more – and, anyway, we had nowhere else to go just at the minute. More than that, if I were to continue on, I couldn’t afford to think about the horror of recent and ongoing events – it was simply too overwhelming and sleep was the place to retreat from all that. David lapsed into a torpor with which I was now becoming familiar. Was it sleep? Was it another form of death? I awoke again in the afternoon, I think. The shooting was now very sporadic and the cries of the zombies were no longer audible. Still, we’d need to be here for at least a few days before it was safe to venture out – or so I guessed – and I would need to keep myself occupied. What to do next? Then I hit upon it: there was a pack of playing cards that Charles and Paul had left behind in their rush to exit. Today, I would try to teach David how to play poker. It was a game he’d once been good at – and had enjoyed. So, why not? Why not indeed? But first, I would catch up on world events. Yes, miraculously, I had managed to hold onto the transistor radio whilst effecting our escape from the battle. True, it was now a little battered – and smelled a lot of gasoline soot – but it still worked. (I hoped that the batteries had been relatively new because I had no replacements at hand.) “This is the BBC World Service,” the announcer intoned. (I was warming to that voice.) News that I wasn’t interested in came first but the ‘Battle of Melbourne Port” was the third item of the broadcast. The item confirmed a couple of things. The first was that the herding of the zombies into the uni campus – and their subsequent destruction there – had been entirely planned and was claimed to have been largely successful in its aim. (There was no mention of the soldiers who had been taken by the zombies during the battle.)
Agan tronkys gwrys, my a omglywo bos edhomm dhymm a bowes arta – rag lettya dhiworthiv usans treweythus dhiworth an ladhva esa ow pesya yn-mes. Spenys en vy drefenn an hwarvosow re hwarsa dres moy es seythun – hag, yn neb kas, nyns esa le vyth arall may hyllyn mos y’n tor’ na. Ha, gans henna, mar mynnen mos yn-rag, ny dalvien prederi a-dro dhe’n euth a hwarvosow a-gynsow – oversettyes gansa en vy ha kosk o an le may yllyn kildenna dhiworta. Davydh a goedhas yn anwrythresekter, lemmyn aswonnys yn ta dhymm. O hemma kosk yn hwir? O hemma eghenn a vernans arall? Dohajydh, dell grysav, my a dhifunas arta. An tennans o lemmyn pur dreweythus ha ny yllys na fella klywes skrijansow an zombis. Byttele, res o dhyn triga omma nebes dydhyow kyns bos salow mos yn-mes – po dell grysyn – hag ytho yth esa edhomm a dhidhana ow honan. Pyth yw an nessa tra dhe wul? Ena, y teuth dhymm: yth esa kartennow-wari re via gesys gans Powl ha Charlys hag i resys dhe-ves dhiworth an gleudhgell. Hedhyw, my a vynna dyski Davydh dell wariir poeker. Kyns, y fia Davydh pur skentel ynno – ha da re via ganso ena. Ytho, prag na? Prag na yn hwir? Byttegyns, y’n kynsa le, yth esa edhomm dhymm kavoes nowodhow a hwarvosow an bys. Ya, dre verkyl, my re sewensa dhe dhalghenna an radyo- transystor ha ni dienkys an vatel. Gwir yw, nebes fustys o lemmyn – hag yth esa dhodho fler hudhygel-betrol – mes yth esa hwath owth oberi. (Govenek o dhymm bos poran nowydh an pilyow drefenn nag esa dhymm nammpyth yn le anedha.) “Hemm yw Servis SDP an Bys” a leveris an derivador. (My a omglywo lemmyn neb konfort drefenn son y lev.) Yth esa nowodhow nag o poesek dhymm a dheuth y’n kynsa le. Byttegyns, yth o “Batel Porth Melbourne” an tressa tra kampoellys y’n darlesans. An kynsa poynt gwrys gensi a gonfirmyas diw dra. An kynsa tra o bugelyans an zombis. I re via bugelyes yn kampus an bennskol – ha distruys ena – dre dowl kler. An towl ma re sewensa, dre vras, herwydh fentynyow an nowodhow. (Byttegyns, ny veu kampoellys an soudoryon re via kemmerys gans an zombis dres an vatel.)

“I said, soldier, ‘I will see you later,” said the Sergeant. The driver of the second jeep saluted and drove off slowly. We walked swiftly to David’s cell and were allowed admittance by a third guard. David was, at that time, the only prisoner and so there was only one guard inside the prison. Three guards for one prisoner might seem like over-kill but, unless I missed my guess, the prison was about to have a major influx of additional prisoners from the rioting that was taking place within the parade ground area. When we reached the cell, we found David was slumped and torpid in a corner. “Hey, shithead!” I yelled. And, with that, David roused and gave his accustomed morning groan. (You might stretch and scratch your bum first thing in the morning but zombies have a different practice. Their morning groan is very specific to the morning, much higher pitched than any daytime groans. Immediately recognisable.) David looked at me and I felt an instant pang deep in my guts. It was one of those brother-connection things again, I suppose. A gut-feeling, even. He jumped to his feet and started to roar. In relief? In celebration? Who knows? In any event, I needed to get him under control and I needed to do so immediately. The guard opened the cell door at the Sergeant’s (not Ingrid’s) direction and I entered quickly. I slapped David’s face very hard. (“Hello, brother dear” it was not) – and the roaring instantly stopped. Had I hurt his feelings? Probably – at least, the gut- pang immediately increased in intensity. Ouch!) “We gotta move, Dave,” I hissed – and then David understood that I needed his full and unquestioning co-operation. I took his hand, as if I were leading a small child. He acquiesced. At the same time, the Sergeant (who was a pretty big unit) quietly overwhelmed and disarmed the third guard. Both he and Ingrid tied him up and gagged him. (He was not hurt.) There was a second door to the building which was routinely kept locked and barricaded – but it did not long remain so, once Ingrid had taken the guard’s set of keys. (At the time, I thought it was a fire hazard to keep it locked anyway. Yes, a bit strange to think that just then but, ...)
“My a leveris, ‘souder, y’th welvydhav diwettha,” yn-medh an Serjont. Lywyer an nessa jip a ros salusyans ha mos dhe-ves yn lent. Ni a gerdhas uskis dhe vagh Davydh. Ni a veu gesys entrans gans tressa gwythyas. Nyns esa, y’n termyn na, saw onan prisoner hag ytho nyns esa saw onan gwithyas a- berth y’n prison. Tri gwithyas rag pub prisner a heveli bos gorladhva martesen. Byttegyns, marnas my a wre kammgemmeryans, y fia yn skon meur a brisners nowydh rag lenwel an prison drefenn an freudh esa hwath ow hwarvos ogas dhe’n plen an gerdhva. Pan dhrehedhsyn an vagh, yth esa Davydh gyllys yn gronn ha heb gwayans yn kornell. “Hay, ‘benn-kawgh!” a armis vy. Ha, gans henna, Davydh a veu sordyes. Ev a wrug y hanasenn-vyttin herwydh y usadow. (Martesen, myttinweyth, ty a wra omystynna ha skravinas dha dhiwbedrenn mes taklow a’n par na yw dihaval gans zombis. Aga hanasennow-vyttin yw arbennik dhe zombis, ughella yn feur aga fych ages oll a’ga hanasennow dydhweyth. Y hyllir aga aswonn a- dhistowgh.) Davydh a viras orthymm hag, a-dhesempis, my a omglywis gloes yn town y’m kolodhyon. Unnweyth arta, hemm o neppyth yntra’n vreder, kevrenn ynredhon, dell grysav - klywyans-kolodhyon hogen. Ev a lammas a’y sav ha dalleth bedhygla. Difresyans? Rejoysyans? Piw a allsa godhvos? Yn neb kas, res o dhymm y gontrolya – ha res o dhymm y wul a- dhistowgh. An gwithyas a igoras daras an vagh wosa arghadow an Serjont – nag o arghadow Ingrid, dell notyis – ha my a entras ynni uskis. My a frappyas fas Davydh pur gales. (Nyns o hemma “Dydh da, ‘vroder ker.”) Ev a hedhis y vedhyglans a-dhesempis. Esa dhodho glywyansow shyndyes? Yn hwirhaval – dhe’n lyha, yth ynkressyas yn feur gloes an klywyans-kolodhyon. Tynn!) “Res yw dhyn fia, ‘Dhav,” a siis vy – hag ena Davydh a gonvedhas bos edhomm dhymm a dhegemmeres y gesoberyans heb kwestyons vyth. My a gemmeras y leuv, kepar ha pan ledir fleghik. Ev a ros y assentyans. Y’n kettermyn, an Serjont (meur y vraster ha nerth) a ylli yn kosel dhe fetha an tressa gwithyas ha’y dhiarva. Ev o kelmys gans Ingrid ha’n Serjont an dhew hag ena gorherys o y anow. (Ny veu shyndyes mann.) Yth esa nessa daras y’n drehevyans o, herwydh usadow, alhwedhys – mes ny remaynyas yndella dres termyn hir wosa Ingrid dhe gemmeres an dialhwedhyow dhiworth an gwithyas.

Then he lifted his hands to his bloodied locks and ran his fingers through his hair . He held the palms of his hands before him and looked admiringly at them. Another grunt of satisfaction. He then raised those palms to my own face and smeared it with what had, so recently, been Meryl’s lifeblood. At first, I pulled back from the gesture but David insisted and I allowed him to do it. I stared deep into David’s dead eyes to try and guess what purpose his withered mind had in doing this. I found none. We paused a moment and then he turned and entered the charnel house that had been ‘The Union’. I followed. I had no choice. Apparently, this was to be our shelter for the night. We entered the foyer area and David strode on to the stairwell outside the Caff. In the bowels of the building, where the lockers and toilets are, the zombies had made their home. (Their base?) There were dozens of them there, pacing about, resting, eating. If Union House had ever been a refuge for the living on that first day, it hadn’t been able to hold out long. Unlike the library, which had just one main entrance, there were just too many entrances to the Union building. It may as well have been open access. It was certainly undefendable. Most of the human remains that were lying about had obviously been there for days. Maybe the building had just been overwhelmed on that first day, in the initial onslaught. But Meryl? She had only just been killed. Where had she been hiding? In one of the activities rooms upstairs? You could hold out there for a while but, well away from the Caff, there’d be no food at all – maybe some water, if you were lucky. Perhaps there were still some survivors clinging on up there. Would I be doing them any favours if I went searching – with my brother in tow? Hmmm. I’d have to think on that one.
Ena, ev a sevis y dhiwla dh’y gudynnow goesek ha gwaya y vysies der y vlew. Ev a worras palvow y dhiwla a-dheragdho ha mires orta yn unn estymya. Hanasans gwelghys arall. Ev a dhrehedhis an palvow na dhe’m fas ow honan ha y dhorgura gans goes Meryl. Kynsa, my a dennas dhe-ves dhiworth an sin ma. Byttegyns, y teris Davydh hag ytho my a’n gasas dh’y wul. My a lagattas yn town yn dhewlagas marow Davydh rag assaya kavoes y styr ev. Ny gevis travyth ena. Ni a hedhis pols hag, ena, Davydh a dreylyas ha entra y’n chi mernans re via ‘An Kesunynans’. My a’n sywyas. Nyns esa dewis vyth dhymm. Yn apert, ev re ervirsa y vos agan harber an nos na. Ni a entras yn sal-dynnargh an drehevyans. Davydh a hirgammas dhe’n wrisfordh a-der an Kaff. Yn kolodhyon drehevyans, an selder, mayth yw amariow an studhyoryon ha’n privedhyow, y hwrussa an zombis aga thre. (Aga selva oberyansow?) Yth esa nebes dewdhegow anedha ena, ow kwandra oll a- dro, ow tiskwetha, ow tybri. Mar pe Chi an Kesunyans harber an kynsa dydh rag an dus vyw, ny allsa an dus na perthi orth an zombis dres termyn hir. Y fia dyffrans poesek yntra’n lyverva ha Chi an Kesunyans: nyns esa saw unn jyf entrans dhe’n lyverva mes, dhe’n Kesunyans, meur anedha. Yth o, yn effeyth, hedhas apert. Yn hwir, ny yllys y dhefendya. Yn apert, y fia rann vrassa a’n gesyon denel a’y gorwedh y’n drehevyans dres nebes dydhyow. Martesen, an drehevyans re via oversettyes an kynsa dydh na, dres an kynsa omsettyans. Mes Meryl? Ny via hi ledhys saw a-gynsow. Ple fia hi owth omgudha? Yn onan a’n salyow rag kowethasow studhek, y’n leuryow ughella? Ena, y hyllys perthi orth an zombis dres pols mes, pell an Kaff, nyns esa boes vyth – martesen, nebes dowr, mar pe chons dhedhi. Martesen, yth esa hwath nebes treusvyworyon y’n salyow na, ow kesklena rag bywnans. Byttegyns, a allsen aga gweres mar hwrussen aga hwilas – gans ow broder rybov vy? Hmm. Res o dhymm ombrederi yn y gever.