marthus yw oor Engels

marthus yw

Vertalings in die woordeboek Kornies - Engels

it's a miracle

voorbeelde

/ marthus yw / / /
it's a miracle

‘Henn yw marthus yn hwir!’ i a leveris. ‘Tri hobyt yn koes nosweyth! Ny wrussen ni gweles tra a’n par ma a-dhia Bylbo dhe asa. Pyth yw an styr?’
‘This is indeed wonderful!’ they said. ‘Three hobbits in a wood at night! We have not seen such a thing since Bilbo went away. What is the meaning of it?’

‘Ha nyns yw marthus i dhe vos koynt,’ yn-medh Dadi Toufut (kentrevek a’n Gafer),’i a drig dhe du kamm a’n avon Brandiwayn, hag erbynn an Koes Koth. Henn yw le tewl ha drog mar pe hanter an hwedhlow gwir.’
‘And no wonder they’re queer,’ put in Daddy Twofoot (the Gaffer’s next-door neighbour), ‘if they live on the wrong side of the Brandywine River, and right agin the Old Forest. That’s a dark bad place, if half the tales be true.’

Cornish Names yw moy es saw gerlyver a henwyn personek an yeth Kernewek.Proviys yw golokow kott marthus ha hudelek a-berth an eyl istori hengovek Predennek ha y gila bys arnowydh a'n kowsyoryon Kernewek.
Cornish Names is far more than a mere dictionary of personal Cornish language names. It provides wonderful and fascinating glimpses into the ancient British past as well as the modern world of the Cornish speaker.

‘Drog yw genev dibertha diworth Mester Bombadyl,’ a leveris Sam. ‘Ev yw marthus yn hwir. My a dyb ni dhe vones yn hyns pell heb gweles travyth gwell, po koyntta. Mes ny vynnav nagha bos da genev gweles an Hoba Ow Tonsya dell wrug ev leverel. Yma govenek dhymm y vos haval orth an Dhragon Wyrdh dhe-dre! Py par tus yns i yn Bri?’
‘I am sorry to take leave of Master Bombadil,' said Sam. 'He's a caution and no mistake. I reckon we may go a good deal further and see naught better, nor queerer. But I won't deny I'll be glad to see this Prancing Pony he spoke of. I hope it'll be like The Green Dragon away back home! What sort of folk are they in Bree?'

‘Henn yw gwir Dadi!’ yn-medh an Gafer. ‘Ny drig an Brandibukow a-ji dhe’n Koes Koth; mes tus koynt yns i, dell hevel. I a wari gans skathow war an avon bras na – ha nyns yw henna genesik. Nyns yw marthus ahwer dhe sywya dell leverav. Mes, kyn fe henna gwir, Mstr Frodo yw hobyt yowynk hweg. Haval orth Mstr Bylbo yn hwir, ha dre voy es semlant. Yth yw gwir y das dhe vos Bagyns. Hobyt onest ha reowtadow o Mstr Drogo Bagyns; nyns esa meur a nowodhow anodho, bys yn ev dhe vos beudhys.’
‘You’re right, Dad!’ said the Gaffer. ‘Not that the Brandybucks of Buck-land live in the Old Forest; but they’re a queer breed, seemingly. They fool about with boats on that big river - and that isn’t natural. Small wonder that trouble came of it, I say. But be that as it may, Mr. Frodo is as nice a young hobbit as you could wish to meet. Very much like Mr. Bilbo, and in more than looks. After all his father was a Baggins. A decent respectable hobbit was Mr. Drogo Baggins; there was never much to tell of him, till he was drownded.’

An tresoryow ma a syns ynna an liester marthus a buskes an mor ha krestenogyon yw tirhes gans pyskadoryon hag ena pareusys gans kogow a'n ughella gradh rag agas delit y'n diwottiow ha bostiow bryntin yn Porthpyra.
These treasures include the wonderful variety of sea fish and crustaceans brought in daily by the local fishermen and then prepared by top class chefs for your delight in the excellent pubs and restaurants of Polperro.

Dowr toemm an Gulf Stream a dhri bywnans pals dhe’n morleur Kernewek, miles hag yw gwelys marnas yn kribow-koral trovannel. Skusennow marthus Mark Webster a waynyas piwasow pals, a ri gwel a vywnwns y’gan pollennow ha pella yn-dann an mordonnow.
The warm waters of the Gulf Stream bring many forms of life to the Cornish seabed which are otherwise only seem in tropical coral reefs. Mark Webster’s stunning and award-winning underwater photographs give an insight into life in our rock-pools and further beneath the waves.

Dre’n deg blydhen yw passys, an niver a dus a gews an Yeth yn freth re dardhas yn marthus a-dhiworth ‘dro dhe 40 y’n ethves degbydhen bys dhe ‘dro dhe dri kans y’n dydhyow ma, ha nebes milyow orth hy devnydhya yn neb fordh.
Through the last ten years or so, the number of people who speak Cornish fluently has exploded from around 40 in the 80s to around 300 these days, and there are several thousand who use it to some extent.

46 ‘Wosa henna yth esens trigys ena bys y’n diwettha termyn; ha lemmyn, hag i ow talleth dos arta, 47 an Ughella a stopp kanolyow an avon arta, may hyllons tremena dresti. Hemm yw an reson ty dhe weles an routh omguntellys yn hebask. 48 Mes an re gesys a’th pobel, kevys a-ji dhe’m oryon sans, a vydh sawys. 49 Ytho pan dhalleth ev distrui routh an kenedhlow yw omguntellys, ev a dhifres an bobel yw gesys, 50 hag ena ev a dhiskwedh dhedha lies marthus bras.’
[no English parallel text | tekst kettuel Sowsnek vyth]

Godrigoryon re dheuth dhe Gernow dre voy es kans blydhen rag studhya ha kuntelles tykies-dyw ha goedhanes. An tirwel marthus Kernow ha’y hin hwar a brov tre rag meur a eghenn danow, nyns yw nebes anedha kevys yn leow arall yn Breten Veur. An lyver ma a igor a pyth y hyllir gweles yn dydhyow ma ha fatell wrug traow chanjya dres an blydhynyow.
Visitors have come to Cornwall for more than 100 years to study and collect butterflies and moths. Cornwall’s wonderfull scenery and mild climate provide a home for many rare species, some of them found nowhere else in Britain. This book explains what can be seen today and how things have changed through the years.

an benynes leun a ras gans an bedh fast powessens orth an penn i a welas dhe'n bedh yw leverys kyns unn flogh yo'nk gwynn y dhillas el o hag i ny wodhyens skruth own meur a's kemmeras rag an marthus re welsens
The women, full of grace, had paused close by the grave. At the head of the grave, which has been mentioned before, they saw a young person in white clothing. it was an angel and they did not know. a shudder of great fear sei3ed them because of the wonder they had seen.

Avel darn a’n rann hembrenkyel ma, yth yw posek ni dhe brederi a’n pyth a wra profya an galadewderyow a vys karbon isel ha dh’agan kemeniethow ha dhe’n erbysiedh, gans ertach marthus a’y gerhynnedh naturel hag istorek keffrys ha hedhas dhodho.
As part of this leadership role, it is important that we also consider what the possibilities of a low carbon society, with good provision of and access to its natural and historic environment will offer both to our communities and the economy.

Avel darn a’n rann hembrenkyel ma, yth yw posek ni dhe brederi a’n pyth a wra profya an galadewderyow a vys karbon isel ha dh’agan kemeniethow ha dhe’n erbysiedh, gans ertach marthus a’y gerhynnedh naturel hag istorek keffrys ha hedhas dhodho.
As part of this leadership role, it is important that we also consider what the possibilities of a low carbon society, with good provision of and access to its natural and historic environment will offer both to our communities and the economy. This draft submission document is our proposed approach to development and sets out the policies we think should guide future planning decisions.

An hobytow a viras orti gans marth; hi a viras orta i onan hag onan ha minhwerthin. ‘Goldberri deg!’ a leveris Frodo wostiwedh, movys y golonn gans heudh na wrug ev konvedhes. Ev a sevis yn gis may hwre ev sevel, termyn a dermyn, gorhenys dre levow teg elfek; mes an husenn a veu gorrys warnodho lemmyn o dihaval yn neb fordh: an delit o le tynn hag le ughel, ha nessa dhe’n golonn marwel; marthus o, mes nyns o anaswonnys. ‘Goldberri deg!’ ev a leveris arta. ‘Lemmyn, an heudh a veu kudhys y’n kanow a glywsyn ni yw gwrys apert dhymm.
The hobbits looked at her in wonder; and she looked at each of them and smiled. ‘Fair lady Goldberry!’ said Frodo at last, feeling his heart moved with a joy that he did not understand. He stood as he had at times stood enchanted by fair elven-voices; but the spell that was now laid upon him was different: less keen and lofty was the delight, but deeper and nearer to mortal heart; marvellous and yet not strange. ‘Fair lady Goldberry!’ he said again. ‘Now the joy that was hidden in the songs we heard is made plain to me.

‘Ma palores orth Lysardh Omma arta ha heb gweres Ha rag nebes yth o marth Mes ni ‘wor hi dhe dhehweles. An balores du hy liw Rudh ha’y gelvin kamm ha’y garow War als Kernow hwath a vew Kyn leveris hy bos marow Nyns yw marow, nyns yw marow Nyns yw marow Myghtern Arthur ‘Ma palores Penn an Wlas Als ow tasseni gans an kri, “Y few Arthur myghtern bras” Y leverons ughel dhyn ni An balores du hy liw Rudh ha’y gelvin kamm ha’y garow War als Kernow hwath a vew Kyn leveris hy bos marow Nyns yw marow, nyns yw marow Nyns yw marow Myghtern Arthur ‘Ma palores y’n Rosvro Le may kerdhas Arlodh Jesus Hag ow neyja oll a-dro ‘Ma agan edhen ni marthus An balores du hy liw Rudh ha’y gelvin kamm ha’y garow War als Kernow hwath a vew Kyn leveris hy bos marow Nyns yw marow, nyns yw marow Nyns yw marow Myghtern Arthur ‘Ma palores orth Pennhal Ryb an kowsji agan Peran Yn mysk tewyn ha hen val O palores rag pub onan! An balores du hy liw Rudh ha’y gelvin kamm ha’y garow War als Kernow hwath a vew Kyn leveris hy bos marow Nyns yw marow, nyns yw marow Nyns yw marow Myghtern Arthur
There is a chough at the Lizard Here again and without help And for some it was a miracle But we know she will return. The chough, black her colour Red her curved beak as well as her legs On a cliff, Cornwall lives yet Although she’s said to be dead Not dead, not dead King Arthur is not dead There’s a Lands End chough A cliff echoes with the cry “A great king Arthur lives” They tell loud to us The chough, black her colour Red her curved beak as well as her legs On a cliff, Cornwall lives yet Although she’s said to be dead Not dead, not dead King Arthur is not dead There’s a chough in the Roseland The place where Lord Jesus walked While flying all about There’s our bird marvellous The chough, black her colour Red her curved beak as well as her legs On a cliff, Cornwall lives yet Although she’s said to be dead Not dead, not dead King Arthur is not dead There’s a chough at Penhale By our Peran’s oratory Amongst towan and ancient mine. Oh! chough for everyone! The chough, black her colour Red her curved beak as well as her legs On a cliff, Cornwall lives yet Although she’s said to be dead Not dead, not dead King Arthur is not dead