Mysterious inscription

This mysterious inscription was sent in by an editor at the Arizona Republic newspaper in Phoenix, Arizona. One of their reporters is working on a story about a book that was donated to a local library there. It’s a portfolio of prints apparently related to the Hermitage Museum in Leningrad that was compiled for the 1939 World’s Fair.

The inscription below is on the flyleaf, and they’ve been trying to determine what language it’s in in the hopes of getting it translated.

Mysterious inscription

The writing appears to be in a cursive form of the Hebrew script, and the language might be Hebrew or Yiddish.

Noel, genes and genius

When singing the Christmas carol The First Noel the other day I started wondering where the word noel comes from. I knew noël was French for Christmas, but wasn’t sure where that came from.

According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, noel comes from the Latin natalis (birth) via the Old French noel (the Christmas season), and the Middle English nowel.

Quite a few other words for Christmas probably come from the same root – Natale (Italian), Navidad (Spanish), Natal (Portuguese), Nadal (Catalan/Galician/Occitan/Romansh), Nadolig (Welsh), Nedeleg (Breton), Nadelik (Cornish), Nollaig (Irish/Scottish Gaelic), and Nollick (Manx).

natalis comes from natus, the past participle of nasci (to be born), which comes from the Old Latin gnasci (to be born), which is cognate with the Latin genus (race, stock, kind), and the Greek γένος [genos] (race, kind) and γόνος [gonos] (birth, offspring, stock), the reconstructed Proto-Indo-European root of which is *gen-/*gon-/*gn- (to produce, beget, be born).

Other words derived from that PIE root include genius, gene, king and kin in English, gentis (Lithuanian – kinsman), Kind (German – child), geni (Welsh – to be born), and I’m sure there are plenty of others.

Nolllick

Nollick Ghennal as Blein Vie Noa

Nollaig shona agus athbhliain faoi mhaise duit

Nollaig chridheil agus bliadhna mhath ùr

Nadelik Lowen ha Blydhen Nowydh Da

Nedeleg laouen ha bloavezh mat

The land of rabbits

Photo of a rabbit

When adding more animals to the Celtic Connections section on Omniglot the other day, I started wondering about the origins of the Celtic words for rabbit – connín (Irish), coinean (Scottish Gaelic), conning (Manx), cwningen (Welsh), conyn (Cornwell), c’honikl (Breton). They appear to be related to each other, and also to the English word coney, which was used for rabbit until the 18th century, while rabbit was used for the young of the coney from about the 14th century.

Rabbit apparently comes from the Walloon robète, which is a diminutive of the Flemish or Middle Dutch robbe.

Coney comes from the Anglo-Norman conis, the plural of conil “long-eared rabbit” (Lepus cunicula) from the Latin cuniculus, which means burrow and comes from the Greek κύνικλος (kýniklos), which is thought to come from an Iberian word for burrow. Related words in other languages include kanin (Danish), konijn (Dutch), bunny (English), Kaninchen (German), coniglio (Italian).

There’s a popular theory that the Roman name for Spain, Hispania, which became España and Spain, comes from the Phoenician name for Iberia i-shepan-im, the land or coast of rabbits. When the Phoenicians first visited Iberia in around 500 BC they saw lots of rabbits there which they named after a similar animal, the hyrax of North Africa.

Daily food

At a Christmas party this week I was chatting to some Vietnamese people about food and one of them asked whether the meal we were having (chicken, potatoes, veg, etc) was what we have as our “daily food”. I couldn’t work out what she was talking about as the phrase “daily food” was pronounced so quickly and was unusual anyway. At first I thought it was a word or phrase in Vietnamese, so I asked her to repeat it several times and eventually she explained that she was asking about food we eat every day. That was when I realised what she was saying. Even slight differences in pronunciation and novel constructions can throw you like this.

When you’re speaking a foreign language it can be frustrating when people don’t understand what you’re saying, even though you think you’re pronouncing things correctly. When people realise what you’re trying to say and repeat it, you often think, “Isn’t that what I said!?”

Cuirrey kiaull

Riyr hie mee dys yn chied cuirrey kiaull lesh bann phrash yn ollooscoill – ta paart jeh my chaarjyn ‘syn bann as hug nane jeu yn bann er bun. V’ad dy mie as va taitnys vooar ain.

Oie Jedoonee hie mee dys cuirrey kiaull yindyssagh lesh Sheshaght Chiaull yn ollooscoill, as noght ta mee goll dys possan y Nollick ec Global Café.

Cyngerddau

Neithiwr es i i’r gyngerdd gyntaf band pres y prifysgol – mae ffrindiau yn y band ac mi gafodd un ohonyn nhw sefydlu y band. Roedden nhw’n dda ac mi fwynheuon ni ein hunain yn fawr.

Nos Sul mi es i i gyngerdd wych gan Gymdeithas Gerdd y prifysgol, a heno dw i’n mynd i barti Nadolig yn Global Café.

Ceolchoirmeacha

Aréir chuaigh mé chuig an chéad ceolchoirm leis banna práis na hollscoile – tá cúpla de mo chairde sa banna agus chur daoine amháin acu an banna ar bun. Bhí siad go maith agus bhí muid ag déanamh suilt mór as.

Oíche Dhomhnaigh chuaigh mé chuig ceolchoirm leis Cumman Ceoil na hollscoile, agus anocht tá me ag dhul chuig coisir na Nollag ag Global Café.