I’m currently in Bratislava in Slovakia for the 2019 Polyglot Gathering, which starts tomorrow, although there was an opening ceremony this evening.
Today I went on a tour taking in three countries – Slovakia, Hungary and Austria. I had conversations in English, French, German, Mandarin, Spanish and Irish, and spoke odd bits of Czech, Slovak, Russian, Scots, Hungarian, Portuguese, Welsh, Esperanto and Swedish.
I probably won’t have much time for blogging with all the intensive polylgotting that’s going on. Normal service will be resumed next week.
If someone said to you, “A’m gey wabbit, an a’v a sair thrapple comin on”, would you have any idea what they were talking about?
This is an example of Scots from L Colin Wilson’s Luath Scots Language Learner. It means, “I’m very tired, and I’ve a sore throat coming on”.
Wabbit, is a childish pronunciation of rabbit in English, and means exhausted, tired out, played out, feeble or without energy in Scots. It is also written wubbit, wibbit or wappit [source]., and it’s not certain where it comes from [source].
Here are some examples of how it’s used:
She sat doon, clean wabbit oot, pechin’. = She sat down, completely tired out, panting.
You’re lookin’ fair wubbit. What ails ye the day? = You’re looking quite tired. What is wrong with you today?
Thrapple [ˈθrɑpəl], means the windpipe, gullet or throat; to grip by the throat, throttle, strangle; to suppress (laughter) in the throat; to entangle with cords; to gobble up, to devour. It is also written thropple or throapple [source].
It is not certain where it comes from, but may be realted to the English dialect word thropple (larynx, windpipe), which comes from the Old English þrotbolla (windpipe) [source].
Here are some examples of how it’s used:
Yer thrapple shuts ticht wi’ the kink-hoast. = Your throat shuts tightly with the chincough (a breath drawn when coughing or laughing).
knot o’ the thrapple = Adam’s apple
thrapple-deep = up to one’s throat
thrapple-girth = a cravat or necktie
Thrapple & Wabbit would be a good name for a firm of solicitors / lawyers perhaps, or a comedy double act.
I just registered for the Polyglot Gathering in Bratislava at the end of May / beginning of June. This will be the fifth time I’ve been to the Gathering – the second in Bratislava, and I’m looking forward to it.
I’ll be staying in the same AirBnB as last time, which is close to the Gathering venue, and not too far from the centre of Bratislava. It’s easier that way as I already know my way around the area.
I haven’t decided if I’ll give a presentation or run a workshop at the Gathering. At previous polyglot events I’ve given talks on writing systems, the origins of languages, the origins of words, Manx, and language death and revival, and helped with a Welsh language workshop. Any suggestions for what I could talk about at this and future polyglot events?
At the end of January I’m going to Edinburgh for LingoFringo, a fringe event to the main polyglot conferences and gatherings with a focus on workshops, community and networking events. I’ll be running a workshop on traditional Scottish Gaelic songs there.
So this month I’ll be brushing up my Scottish Gaelic, preparing for the workshop, and continuing to work on other languages. The languages I’m focusing on currently are Swedish, Danish, Russian, Esperanto, Cornish and Scots. This year I also plan to learn some more British Sign Language and Slovak, and maybe some German, Czech and Spanish.
I don’t plan to start any new languages this year – we’ll see how that works out.
What are your language-related plans for this year?
Last night I saw FARA, a brilliant group from Orkney, in our local arts centre. One of the songs they sang, Speir Thoo The Wast Wind, was in Orcadian dialect and based on a poem by Christina Costie from Orkney.
Orcadian dialect is a type of Insular Scots that combines elements of the extinct Norn language and Scots. There isn’t a lot of information available about Orcadian, but I will try to put together a page about it on Omniglot.
Each verse of the song and the poem finishes with the line “Speir thoo the wast wind, bit speir no me”, which means “Ask the west wind, and don’t ask me”, I think.
The word speir [spiːr], which is also written speer, means to enquire or ask, according to The Orkney Dictionary. When I heard it in the song, I thought I might be related to words for to ask in North Germanic languages, and it turns out that it is.
It comes from the Old English spyrian (to track, inquire, investigate, examine), from the Proto-Germanic *spurjaną (to search; to examine; to ask) [source], which is also the root of the Danish word spørge (to ask, inquire), Norwegian word spørre (to ask, inquire), and the word spyrja (to ask) in Icelandic and Faroese [source].
A few other words from Orkney dialect: hoodjiekapiv, hoodjiekapiffle, hoodjiekaboogle, which are all Orcadian equivalents of whatsit, thingy, doobry, thingamajig, whatjumacallit, thingamebob, etc [source]. What do you call something when you can’t remember it’s normal name?
One of the words that came up in the French conversation group last night was rutabaga [ʁy.ta.ba.ɡa], a root vegetable that originated as a cross between the cabbage and the turnip, and that was possibly introduced from Sweden.
The word rutabaga was borrowed in 1799 from the Swedish word rotabagge, a dialect word from Västergötland in southern Sweden, from rot (root) and bagge (bag, short, stumpy object) [source].
This vegetable has a variety of names in different places:
In botanical Latin it is brassica napobrassica
In North America it is rutabaga, which is also used in French and Portuguese
In the England, Australia, New Zealand it is swede (from “Swedish turnip”).
In parts of northern England and the midlands, and in parts of Canada, it is a turnip.
In north east England swedes are known colloquially as snadgers, snaggers or narkiesno
In Wales it is swede or turnip in English, and as maip (Swedaidd), rwden, erfin, swedsen or swejen in Welsh.
In Cornwall it is turnip in English, and routabaga in Cornish.
In Scotland it is turnip in English, tumshie or neep in Scots, and snèap-Shuaineach (Swedish turnip / neep) in Scottish Gaelic. In parts of Scotland, particularly in the south east, it is baigie
In the Isle of Man it is turnip or moot in English, and as napin Soolynagh (Swedish turnip) in Manx.
In Ireland it is turnip in English and svaeid in Irish.
Skye is quite a multilingual place with residents and visitors from around the world. During the past few days I’ve met people from a variety of countries, and have spoken quite few different languages, including Scottish Gaelic, Irish, French, German, Swedish, and a bit of English. There are also speakers of Scots, Italian, Finnish and Japanese here, and there are people in the song class who have studied Old Norse, Old English, and Ugaritic.
On Tuesday night I met a guy from New Mexico who is a native speaker of Navajo – his wife has Scottish roots and is studying Gaelic here while he has a holiday. I asked him if he could record a few things in Navajo for me, but he said he can’t read the language very well, so would find it difficult to read them from Omniglot.
Last night there was an epic music session in the bar with lots of tunes and songs – I sang a few of my own songs, which went down well, and others sang in Scottish Gaelic, Irish, Scots and English. When I left the bar at 2am the session was still going, and apparently carried on until at least 4am. So many of us are feeling rather tired today.
Today we recorded a few songs in the college’s recording studio for the people who are doing the sound engineering course. I’m looking foward to hearing the recording.
The end of course cèilidh takes place tonight, and each class will be doing their party piece. Most will be singing, and the song class will be doing five songs.
Yesterday I learnt the Russian word for beef, говядина [ɡɐˈvʲædʲɪnə], and the promotely forgot it. So I thought I’d investigate its etymology to help me remember it.
говядина comes from говядо [ɡɐˈvʲadə] and old word for cattle. This comes from the Proto-Slavic *govędo (head of cattle, bull, ox), from the Proto-Indo-European *gʷew-n̥d-, from *gʷṓws (cattle) [source].
The usual Russian word for cow is корова [source], which comes from the Proto-Slavic *kőrva (cow), from the Proto-Indo-European *ḱerh₂- (horn) [source].
*gʷṓws is also the root of:
gak = boar (Albanian)
govs = cattle, cow (Latvian)
говядо = beef (Ukrainian)
говедо = cattle (Bulgarian, Macedonian & Serbian)
govedo = cattle (Croatian & Slovenian)
hovado = brute (Czech & Slovak)
gowjedo = cow (Lower Sorbian)
*kūz = cow (Proto-Germanic)
Kuh = cow (German)
koe = cow (Dutch)
ku = cow (Norwegian)
ko = cow (Swedish, Danish, North Frisian)
coo, kye = cow (Scots)
βοῦς = cow (Ancient Greek)
bōs = cow, bull, ox (Latin)
bou = ox (Catalan)
bue = ox, beef (Italian)
bife = steak (Portuguese)
bou= ox, idiot (Romanian)
buey= ox. steer (Spanish)
bœuf = cow, ox, beef, jam session (French)
*bāus = cow (Proto-Celtic)
*bōws = ox (Proto-Celtic)
bu, buw = cow, bullock, head of cattle (Middle Welsh)
buwch = cow (Welsh)
bugh = cow (Cornish)
bu, buoc’h = cow (Breton)
bó = cow (Irish)
booa = cow (Manx)
bò = cow (Scottish Gaelic)
The English words beef and bovine come ultimately from the same root. Beef comes from the Middle English beef, bef, beof, from the Anglo-Norman beof, from the Old French buef, boef (ox). from Latin bōs (“ox”)
The Proto-Indo-European word *gʷowkólos, from *gʷṓws (cow) & *kʷel- (to revolve, move around, sojourn) gives us the following words in the Celtic languages [Source].
Today I saw a post on Facebook asking why words for horse are so different in languages like English and German, so I thought I’d investigate.
In English horse-related words include horse, stallion (male horse), mare (female horse), foal (young horse), filly (young female horse), colt (young male horse), pony (a small breed of horse), and equine (a horse or horse-like animal; related to horses).
Horse comes from the Middle English horse / hors, from the Old English hors (horse), from the Proto-Germanic *hrussą (horse), from the Proto-Indo-European *ḱr̥sos (horse), from Proto-Indo-European *ḱers- (to run) [source]. This is also the root of the Proto-Celtic word *karros (wagon), from which we get the currus (chariot), and the English words car, cart and chariot, and related words in other languages.
Stallion comes from the Middle English stalion, from the Middle French estalon and is of Germanic origin [source].
Mare comes from the Middle English mare / mere, from the Old English mere / miere (female horse, mare), from the Proto-Germanic *marhijō (female horse) [source].
Foal comes from the Middle English fole, from the Old English fola, from the Proto-Germanic *fulô, from the Proto-Indo-European *pōlH- (animal young) [source]
Colt comes from the Old English colt (young donkey, young camel), from the Proto-Germanic *kultaz (plump; stump; thick shape, bulb), from the Proto-Indo-European *gelt- (something round, pregnant belly, child in the womb), from *gel- (to ball up, amass) [source].
Pony comes from the Scots powny, from the Middle French poulenet (little foal), from the Late Latin pullanus (young of an animal), from pullus (foal) [source].
Equine comes from the Latin equīnus (of or pertaining to horses), from equus (horse) [source].
The equivalent words in other European languages include:
The German word Pferd and the Dutch paard come from the Middle High German phert / pherit / pferift (riding horse), from the Old High German pherit / pfarifrit / parafred, from the Late Latin paraverēdus (substitute post horse) [source], from para-, from the Ancient Greek παρά (from, by, near) & verēdus (a fast or light breed of horse), from the Proto-Celtic *uɸorēdos (horse) [source], *uɸo- (under) & *rēdo- (to ride; riding, chariot), from the Proto-Indo-European *(H)reydʰ- (to ride) [source].
The words hengst and hingst come from the Proto-Indo-European *ḱanḱest- / *kankest- (horse), which is also the root of the Welsh, Cornish and Breton words for mare, and of the Old English word for horse or stallion, hengest.
Romance / Italic languages
equuleus equulus pullus vitulus
In Latin there was another word for horse – caballus, which was only used in poetry in Classical Latin, and was the normal word for horse in Late and Vulgar Latin. It possibly comes from the Gaulish caballos [source]. This is also the root of the English words cavalry, cavalier, cavalcade and chivalry,
The word equus comes from the Proto-Italic *ekwos, from the Proto-Indo-European *h₁éḱwos (horse) [source].
The Scottish Gaelic word for horse, each, comes from the
Old Irish ech (horse), from Proto-Celtic *ekʷos (horse), from the Proto-Indo-European *h₁éḱwos (horse), which is also the root of the Breton, Cornish and Welsh words for foal.
The Breton marc’h (horse), the Cornish margh (horse) and the Welsh march (stallion) come from the Proto-Brythonic *marx (horse), from Proto-Celtic *markos (horse), from the Proto-Indo-European *márkos (horse). [source]. This is also the root of the Irish marcaigh (to ride), the Scottish Gaelic marcaich (to ride), and the Manx markiagh (to ride).
The Russian word for horse, лошадь, is a borrowing from a Turkic language, probably Tatar [source].
The other Slavic words for horse come from the Proto-Slavic konjь (horse), of unceratin origin [source].
As you might know, today is International Mother Language Day. The theme this year is “Linguistic diversity and multilingualism: keystones of sustainability and peace”.
To do my bit for multilinguism, I’m currently learning Swedish, Russian, Romanian and Slovak, and practising other languages, especially French and Welsh. So far today I’ve learnt a bit more Romanian and Russian, listened to some Welsh language radio, and read a bit of Swedish.
Tonight I studied some Swedish and Slovak, spoke English and Laala, read in English, Latin and Scots, and sang in English, Welsh, French, Zulu and Church Slavonic.
What languages have you spoken, read, heard, written, sung and/or studied today?
Rollipoke comes from roll / row, one of the meanings of which is ‘to wrap up, around, in’; and poke is a variant of pock (a simple type of bag or pouch, a small sack or sack-like receptacle).
Ronner and roudge are other words for the rollipoke.
In East Anglian varieties of English, a rollipoke is “hempen cloth of very coarse texture. Perhaps so named, because only fit to be used as bags or wrappers for rolls or bales of finer goods.” [from The Vocbulary of East-Anglia Etc. Volume 2]
Some examples of use of poke / pock (also written powk, poak, etc):
– An ill-bred loon or twa crackit a paper pyoke at the verra time he was speakin’.
– Every young sheeld hed his muckle pokky o’ sweeties, ‘at he haandit aboot in nev-fues.
– He wambles like a poke o’ bran.
– loon = a rogue, rascal, scoundrel, a worthless person
– sheeld (a variant of chield) = child
– muckle = large, big
– nev-fues = ?
– to wamble = to stagger, totter, wobble
Pock can also mean:
– the bag used by a beggar for collecting meal or the like given in charity, a beggar’s scrip or wallet.
– a sack or bag holding a certain quantity of wool, a measure of wool
– A net in the form of a bag or pouch used for catching salmon, a purse-net; a bag-shaped net for catching small coal-fish
Related words include:
– butter-poki = a small thin bag through which the water is strained from freshly-churned butter
– pock-end = the bottom or corner of a bag or receptacle, esp. one used to hold money.
– pock-pud(ding) = (1) a dumpling or steamed pudding cooked in a bag of muslin or similar thin material; (2) a jocular or pejorative nickname for an Englishman from the supposed fondness of the English for steamed puddings, with an additional implication of omnivorousness and stolidity.