Paved Floors

20 November 202420 November 2024 By Simon

The Italian word pavimento looks like the English word pavement, but actually means floor. Let’s find out more.

Pavimento [pa.viˈmen.to] comes from Latin pavīmentum (a floor composed of small stones beaten down) from paviō (to beat, strike, ram, tread down), from Proto-Indo-European *peh₂w- (to strike, hit) [source].

Related words in Latin include pavīmentārius (floor-maker, who makes the tiled ground), pavīmentō (to pave) and pavīcula (a rammer) [source].

Related words in Italian include pavimentare (to floor, to pave) and pavimentazione (flooring, paving).

Words from the same Latin / PIE roots in other languages include paviment (flooring, pavement) in Catalan, pavement and to pave in English, palmant (pavement) in Welsh, pavement (paving, tiled floor) and paver (to cobble, pave [Canada]) in French, pământ (earth, ground, land) in Romanian, pavimento (road surface, paving) in Spanish, and pļaut (to mow, reap, shoot intensively) in Latvian [source].

The English word pavement can refer to:

A paved surface; a hard covering on the ground.
A paved path, for the use of pedestrians, located at the side of a road (mainly in the UK, Ireland and South Africa) – known as a sidewalk in North America, a banquette in Louisiana and Texas in the USA, and as a footpath in Australia, New Zealand and India
A paving (paved part) of a road or other thoroughfare; the roadway or road surface. (mainly in North America)
The paved part of an area other than a road or sidewalk, such as a cobblestone plaza, asphalt schoolyard or playground, or parking lot. (mainly in North America)
The interior flooring of a church sanctuary, between the communion rail and the altar. [source].

Pavements / sidewalks have been around for a many thousands of years. There were pavements in Ancient Greece and Rome, for example, and the Romans called them sēmite (narrow way, footpath, path, pathway) [source], which comes from PIE *swé(d) (by oneself, away, without) + *mey- ((ex)change). Words from the same roots include senda (footpath) in Catalan, sente (footpath, track, trail) in French, and senda (footpath) in Spanish [source].

Are there other words for pavement / sidewalk in English?

Kitchen Fruit

8 November 2024 By Simon

Is the word kitchen related to the words apricot, pumpkin and melon? Let’s find out.

This is my current kitchen, which will soon be replaced with a new one, that I bought this week.

Kitchen [ˈkɪtʃ(ɪ)n / ˈkɪtʃ(ə)n] comes from Middle English kichen(e), from Old English cyċene (kitchen), from Proto-West Germanic *kukinā (kitchen), from Late Latin cocīna (kitchen), from coquīna (cooking, kitchen, cookery), from coquō (to cook, ripen), from earlier *quoquō, from Proto-Italic *kʷekʷō (to cook), from Proto-Indo-European *pékʷeti (to be cooking, to ripen), from *pekʷ- (to cook, ripen) [source].

Apricot was originally apricock in English, from Catalan abrecoc / abricoc (apricot), from Arabic الْبَرْقُوق (al-barqūq – plums), from Byzantine Greek βερικοκκία (berikokkía – apricot tree), from Ancient Greek πραικόκιον (praikókion – apricot), from Late Latin (persica) praecocia (“(peaches) which ripen early”), from praecox (ripe before its time, premature, precocious, untimely), from prae- (before) and coquō (to cook, ripen), from Proto-Italic *kʷekʷō (to cook), from PIE *pékʷeti (to be cooking, to ripen), from *pekʷ- (to cook, ripen) [source].

Pumpkin comes from Middle French pompon (melon, cucumber), from Latin pepō (pumpkin, large melon), from Ancient Greek πέπων (pépōn – large melon), from πέπων (pépōn – ripe), from πέπτω (péptō – ripen), an alternative form of πέσσω (péssō – to soften, ripen, boil, cook, bake), from Proto-Hellenic *péťťō (to cook, ripen), from PIE *pékʷ-ye-, from *pekʷ- (to cook, ripen) [source].

Melon comes from Middle English melo(u)n (melon), from Old French melon (melon), from Late Latin melonem (melon), from Latin melopeponem, from Ancient Greek μηλοπέπων (mēlopépōn – melon), from μῆλον (mêlon – apple, any fruit from a tree) + πέπων (pépōn – ripe) from PIE *pékʷonts (cooking, ripening), from *pekʷ- (to cook, ripen) [source].

So parts of them at least share a common root: PIE *pekʷ- (to cook, ripen).

Other words from the same root include biscuit, concoct, cook, cuisine, dyspepsia (indigestion) and precocious in English; keuken (kitchen, cuisine), kok (cook, chef) and koken (to cook, boil, seethe) in Dutch; and cegin (kitchen), cogydd(es) (cook), pobi (to bake, roast), poeth (hot, spicy) and popty (oven, bakery) in Welsh [source].

Hat Tricks

31 October 202431 October 2024 By Simon

A hat trick usually involves achieving three things in a row, and has little or nothing to do with hats. So where does this expression come from?

A hat trick (also written hat-trick or hattrick) can refer to

Any magic trick performed with a hat, especially one involving pulling an object (traditionally a rabbit) out of an apparently empty hat.
(sport) Three achievements in a single game, competition, season, etc., such as three consecutive wins, one player scoring three goals in football or ice hockey), or a player scoring three tries in rugby
Three achievements or incidents that occur together, usually within a certain period of time. For example, selling three cars in a day
Historically, it referred to a means of securing a seat in the (UK) House of Commons by a Member of Parliament placing their hat upon it during an absence.

The sporting senses of the expression come from cricket – in the past, a bowler who took three wickets in three consecutive balls would be presented with a commemorative hat as a prize. It was first used in this sense in 1858, when H. H. Stephenson (1833-1896) achieved such as feat in a game of cricket at Hyde Park in Sheffield. On that occasion, fans held a collection and presented Stephenson with a hat, or possibly a cap – I like to think it was a bowler hat, but haven’t been able to confirm this.

So in the magical sense, the sporting sense, and the political sense, hats were originally involved.

Hat trick has been borrowed into many languages. In Czech, Danish, Dutch, Faroese and Swedish it’s hattrick. In Portuguese, Romanian, Slovenian and Vietnamese it’s hat-trick, in German it’s Hattrick, in Japanese it’s ハットトリック (hatto torikku), in Korean it’s 해트트릭 (haeteuteurik), and in Greek it’s χατ τρικ (khat trik).

In Welsh, it’s hat-tric, camp lawn (in rugby and football), or trithro (in cricket). Camp means feat, exploit, accomplishment, achievement, game, sport, etc., and llawn means full, complet, whole, etc., so camp lawn could be translated literally as “a full feat”. Trithro also means three turns, three times or three occasions, and comes from tri (three) and tro (rotation, turn, lap, etc).

Are there interesting expressions in other languages with similar meanings?

Incidentally, the practise of awarding people caps for representing a team in a particular sport comes from the UK as well. In the early days of rugby and football, players on each side didn’t necessarily all wear matching shirts, and they started wearing specific caps to show which team they were on. From 1886, it was proposed that all players taking part for England in international matches would be presented with a white silk cap with red rose embroidered on the front. These were known as International Caps. This practise spread to other sports, although the caps in question are often imaginary rather than real.

Sources: https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/hat_trick#English
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hat-trick
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/H._H._Stephenson
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cap_(sport)

Stanzas, Cameras and Salons

30 August 2024 By Simon

The Italian word stanza [ˈstan.tsa] means room or bedroom. I noticed it recently in my Italian lessons, and wondered where it came from. Today I realised that it’s related to the English word stanza (a part of a poem equivalent to a verse), and also has that meaning in Italian.

It comes from Vulgar Latin *stantia (standing, stopping-place), from Latin stantem (standing, staying, remaining), from stō (to stand, stay, remain), from Proto-Italic *staēō (to stand), from Proto-Indo-European *steh₂- (to stand) [source].

The English word stanza [ˈstænzə], which was borrowed from Italian, can also refer to:

An apartment or division in a building (architecture)
A segment or portion of a broadcast devoted to a particular topic (broadcasting)
A period or interval into which a sporting event is divided (sports)

It is also used in computing.

Words from the same roots include stance, stand, distant, estate, stable, stage, state, station, status and store in English, sawdl (heel) in Welsh, Staat (country, state) in German, and stam (tree trunk, stem, tribe, clan) in Dutch [source].

Other words for room in Italian include sala and camera.

Sala can also refer to a hall, living room or cinema (movie theatre), and was borrowed from French salle (hall, room), which ultimately comes from PIE *sel- (human settlement, village, dwelling), via Middle and Old French, Frankish and Proto-Germanic. The English words salon and saloon come from the same roots [source].

Camera is a room, chamber, bedroom, assembly, parliament or camera. It comes from Latin camera (chamber, room, vault), from Ancient Greek καμάρα (kamára – a vaulted chamber, vault), from Proto-Iranian *kamarā- (something curved), from *kamárati, ultimately from PIE *kh₂em- (to bend, curve) [source].

Words from the same roots include camera, cabaret and chamber in English, قَمَرَة (qamara – berth, bunk, cabin) in Arabic, καμάρα (kamára – arch, instep) in Greek, chambre (room, chamber, bedroom) and cabaret (pub, tavern, cabaret) in French, and câmara (chamber, council, camera) in Portuguese [source].

Camera, as in a device for taking photos and/or videos, is an abbreviation of camera obscura (A darkened room in which the image of an outside object is projected and focused onto a surface – see above) from New Latin camera obscūra (“dark chamber”) [source].

In English, camera can also mean a vaulted room or a judge’s private chamber, where cases may be heard in camera (in secret, in private).

Spreading Sweetness

5 June 2024 By Simon

Foods, and the words that describe them, can travel around the world. For example, tea comes from China, and so do words for tea in many languages. Similarly, avocado, chocolate, tamale, tomato come from Mexico (both the words and the foods).

Those words came to Europe from other continents, and I recently discovered some words that travelled from Europe, or Western Asia, to many other parts of the world.

It started with the Proto-Indo-European word *médʰu (honey, mead), which spread throughout Europe and Asia, and possibly as far as China, Korea, Japan and Vietnam [source].

Descendants of *médʰu include:

մեղու [meʁú] = bee in Armenian
мед (med) = honey in Bulgarian
mõdu [mjøːd] = mead in Estonian
Met [meːt] = mead in German
μέθη (méthi) = drunkenness in Greek
מותק (mótek) = sweetness in Hebrew
मॊदुर / مۆدُر (modur) = sweet, tasty, delicious in Kashmiri
medus [mædus] = honey, mead in Latvian
މީރު [miː.ɾu] = pleasant, sweet, agreeable, savoury in Maldivian
medveď [ˈmɛdvɛc] = bear (“honey-eater”) in Slovak
mjöd [mjøːd] = mead in Swedish
மதுரம் [mɐd̪ʊɾɐm] = sweetness in Tamil
medd [meːð] = mead, and meddw [ˈmɛðu] = drunk in Welsh

The Irish name Méabh (Maeve) also comes from the same roots, via Middle Irish medb (intoxicating) [source]. For more details of related words in Celtic languages, see this Celtiadur post: Honey Wine

It also reached China, where it became mīt (honey) in Tocharian B, and was possibly borrowed into Old Chinese as *mit (honey), which became 蜜 (mì – honey) in Mandarin, 蜜 (mat6 [mɐt˨] – bee, honeybee) in Cantonese, 蜜 (mitsu – honey, nectar, moasses, syrup) in Japanese, 밀 (mil – beeswax) in Korean, and mật (honey, molasses) and mứt (jam) in Vietnamese [source].

Evolution of the Chinese character for honey (蜜)

Evolution of the Chinese character for honey (蜜)

Super Brows

31 May 2024 By Simon

Someone who is supercilious is arrogantly superior, haughty or shows contemptuous indifference.

Supercilious comes from the Latin superciliōsus (haughty, supercilious) from supercilium (eyebrow, will, pride, haughtiness, arrogance, sterness, superciliousness) from super- (above, over) and‎ cilium ( eyelid), from Proto-Italic *keljom, from PIE *ḱel-yo-m, from *ḱel- (to cover) [source].

Equivalents of supercilious in other languages include:

hooghartig (“high-hearted”) = haughty, supercilious in Dutch
hochnäsig (“high-nosed”) = snooty, stuck-up, haughty, supercilious, arrogant in German
kione-ard (“high-head”) = arrogant, chieftain, haughty, presumptuous, supercilious in Manx
ffroenuchel (“high-nostril”) = haughty, disdainful, supercilious in Welsh

The word cilium also exists in English, and means:

A short microscopic hairlike organelle projecting from a eukaryotic cell, which serve either for propulsion by causing currents in the surrounding fluid or as sensors.
One of the fine hairs along an insect’s wing.
Hairs or similar protrusions along the margin of an organ.
An eyelash (plural cilia) [source].

Related words in other languages include: cil (eyelash), and sourcil (eyebrow) in French, ceja (eyebrow, rim, edge) in Spanish, and ciglio (eyelash, eyebrow, border, edge, side) in Italian [source].

Other (eye)brow-related words include:

highbrow = intellectually stimulating, highly cultured, sophisticated; a cultured or learned person or thing
middlebrow = neither highbrow or lowbrow, but somewhere in between; a person or thing that is neither highbrow nor lowbrow, but in between
lowbrow = unsophisticated, not intended for an audience of intelligence, education or culture; someone or something of low education or culture.

Highbrow first appeared in print in 1875, and originally referred to the ‘science’ of phrenology, which suggested that a person of intelligence and sophistication would possess a higher brow-line than someone of lesser intelligence and sophistication [source]. Lowbrow was also conntected to phrenology and first appeared in about 1902 [source]. Middlebrow first appeared in Punch magazine in 1925 and is based highbrow and lowbrow [source].

If something is completely devoid of cultural or educational value, it could be said to be no-brow / nobrow, a word popularized by John Seabrook in his book Nobrow: the culture of marketing, the marketing of culture (2000) [source].

Incidentally, raising or furrowing your eyebrows is used to show you are asking a question in British Sign Language (BSL). Do other sign languages do this?

Do you know of any other interesting brow-related expressions?

A Little Alliteration

23 May 202425 May 2024 By Simon

I like a little alliteration, don’t you?

A Little Allteration

Alliteration is “The repetition of consonant sounds at the beginning of two or more words immediately succeeding each other, or at short intervals.” [source]. As in the sentence above. It comes from Modern/New Latin alliterationem, from alliterare (to begin with the same letter), from Latin ad (to, near) and lītera (letter, script) [source].

Other names for this include consonance (the repetition of consonants sounds) [source] and head rhyme. If similar or indentical vowel sounds are being repeated, as in “How now, brown cow?”, it’s called assonance [source] or slant rhyme.

Other kinds of rhymes include:

syllabic rhyme: the last syllable of each word sounds the same but does not necessarily contain stressed vowels. E.g. cleaver, silver; pitter, patter.
imperfect (or near) rhyme: a rhyme between a stressed and an unstressed syllable. E.g. wing, caring
weak (or unaccented) rhyme: a rhyme between two sets of one or more unstressed syllables. E.g. hammer, carpenter
semirhyme: a rhyme with an extra syllable on one word. E.g. bend, ending
forced (or oblique) rhyme: a rhyme with an imperfect match in sound. E.g. green and fiend; one, thumb)
pararhyme: all consonants match. E.g. tick, tock; bing, bong

Other types of rhyme, and other ways of classifying rhymes are available [More details].

I use a variety of rhymes in the songs I write. For example, my latest song was inspired by a phrase from the Irish course in Duolingo “Léann na lachan na nuachtán.” (The ducks read the newspaper). I made a more alliterative version: “Tá lacha ag léamh leabhar sa leabhrlann le leon agus luch.” (A duck is reading a book in the library with a lion and a mouse). The English version is only slightly alliterative, and that’s what often happens with translations, and why songs and poems are difficult to translate.

Here are the words of the song. Parts are quite alliterative, in Irish at least.

Eachtraí na Lacha (The Duck’s Adventures)

Tá an lacha ag léamh sa leabharlann
The duck is reading in the library
Tá an lacha ag léamh sa leabharlann
le leon agus luch (with a lion and a mouse)

Tá an lacha ag siúl go Sligeach
The duck is walking to Sligo
Tá an lacha ag siúl go Sligeach
ag lorg lámhainní (looking for gloves)

Tá an lacha ag canadh amhrán
The duck is singing a song
Tá an lacha ag canadh amhrán
faoi sionach an-sionnachúil (about a very cunning fox)

Tá an lacha ag labhairt Laidin
The duck is speaking Latin
Tá an lacha ag labhairt Laidin
lena lucht leanúna (with its supporters)

Tá an lacha ina coladh ina leabaidh
The duck is sleeping in its bed
Tá an lacha ina coladh ina leabaidh
Agus sin deireadh an scéil
And that’s the end of the tale
Agus sin deireadh an scéil

Here’s a rough recording:

I’ve been thinking of making it trilingual in Irish, English and Welsh, but haven’t got round to it yet.

Here’s an alliterative phrase I came up with that seems to translate well into a variety of languages:

English: Singers sing songs
Albanian: Këngëtarët këndojnë këngë
Armenian: Երգիչները երգեր են երգում (Yergich’nery yerger yen yergum)
Aymara: Q’uchunakax q’uchunak q’uchupxi
Bengali: গায়কেরা গান গায় (Gāẏakērā gāna gāẏa)
Bulgarian: Певците пеят песни (Pevtsite peyat pesni)
Catalan: Els cantants canten cançons
Corsican: I cantanti cantanu canti
Croatian: Pjevači pjevaju pjesme
Danish: Sangere synger sange
Dhivehi (Maldivian): (lavakiyuntherin lavakiyaeve) ލަވަކިޔުންތެރިން ލަވަކިޔައެވެ
Esperanto: Kantistoj kantas kantojn
Estonian: Lauljad laulavad laule
Finnish: Laulajat laulavat lauluja
French: Les chanteurs chantent des chansons
Galician: Os cantantes cantan cancións
Greek: Οι τραγουδιστές τραγουδούν τραγούδια (Oi tragoudistés tragoudoún tragoúdia)
Haitian Creole: Chantè chante chante
Hindi: गायक गीत गाते हैं (gaayak geet gaate hain)
Lingala: Bayembi bayembaka banzembo
Mongolian: Дуучид дуу дуулдаг (Duuchid duu duuldag)
Romanian: Cântăreții cântă cântece
Russian: Певцы поют песни (Pevtsy poyut pesni)
Swedish: Sångare sjunger sånger
Turkish: Şarkıcılar şarkılar söylüyor
Welsh: Cantorion yn canu caneuon

Translations by Google Translate. More are available

It’s unusual to find a phrase like this that has alliterative translations into so many different languages.

Are there other kinds of rhymes that you like / use / know?

Sabhal Mòr Ostaig

10 April 202420 April 2024 By Simon

A sunny morning in Oban / Madainn ghrianach anns an Oban

The trip from Oban to Skye went smoothly, and I bumped into a couple on the bus who I met at SMO last year. There were several other SMO-bound people on the bus, but I didn’t know them at the time. We arrived safely at Broadford on Sunday afternoon, and got a lift to the college from there. Along the way, there was sunshine, lots of rain and some high winds, and the views from the bus were beautiful.

Changing buses in Tyndrum / Ag atharrachadh bhusaichean ann an Taigh an Droma

So far, the Gaelic song course has been a lot of fun. There are eleven of us in the class from Scotland, England, Ireland, Switzerland and Germany. Some are here for the first time, others have been here before. Most speak at least some Gaelic, and there’s one native speaker. For me, it’s my 10th time here doing Gaelic song courses, and the 7th course I’ve done with Christine Primrose – the other song courses were with Joy Dunlop, Margaret Stewart and Mary Ann Kennedy.

Àrainn Chaluim Chille – the newer part of the college / Am pàirt as ùire den cholaiste

We learnt five songs on Monday, eleven yesterday, and another four today. Some of them I already know, or have at least heard before, which makes it easier to pick them up. Others are a bit more challenging with lots of verses, and complex melodies that change with every verse to fit to the words. Everything is taught by ear, and Christine likes to tell stories about the songs, the people who wrote them, and how life was at the time they were written. A lot of the songs are relatively old – from the 17th or 18th centuries, and have been passed on orally since then.

Àrainn Ostaig – the older part of the college / am pàirt as sine den cholaiste

On Monday night there was a pub quiz, which was good fun. The team I was in didn’t win, but we were only one point behind the winning team.

The people who study here and work here come from many different places and speak a variety of languages. I try to speak as much Scottish Gaelic as I can while I’m here – that’s one of the reasons why I come here – and I’ve also had conversations in French, Irish and Mandarin Chinese, and spoken odd bits of Welsh, German, Portuguese, Japanese, and even a bit of English.

The views from here are quite nice / Tha na seallaidhean às an seo gu math snog

Last night there was a concert featuring Eilidh Shaw and Ross Martin, a husband and wife duo – he plays the guitar, and she sings and plays the fiddle. They write interesting songs and lively tunes in a traditional Scottish style and sounded great. It was also a nice way to celebrate my birthday.

We have a bit of time off today, and there’s a music session in the bar tonight. I was planning to go for a walk, but it’s raining quite a lot, so I’m spending my free afternoon relaxing in my room, learning a bit more Gaelic, writing nonsense like this, and reading.

Giving Up

1 April 20241 April 2024 By Simon

I have some news – I’ve had enough of learning languages and am giving up, throwing in the towel, putting the fiddle in the roof, throwing a spoon, and throwing the axe in the lake.

Giving up

This is something I’ve been thinking about for a while. I like speaking other languages, at least sometimes, but the process of learning them can be a bit tedious. I already speak some languages reasonably well and don’t currently need to learn any more, so maybe my time would be better spent doing other things.

My other main passion is music – I like to sing, to play instruments, and to write songs and tunes. I’ll be spending more time doing this, and will maybe even focus on one instrument, at least for a while, and learn to play it better.

The question is, which instrument? I have a house full of them, including a piano, harps, guitars, ukuleles, recorders, whistles, ocarinas, harmonicas, melodicas, a mandolin, a bodhrán and a cavaquinho.

The instrument I play most often at the moment is the mandolin, so maybe I should focus on that.

If you’ve noticed the date, you may realise that this post is in fact an April Fool. I’m not giving up on learning languages, and actually do enjoy the process, most of the time, and while I do want to improve my mandolin playing, I also want to improve my playing of other instruments.

Incidentally, let’s look at some ways to say that you’re giving up.

In English you might say you quit, you’re calling it a day, you’re calling it quits you’re throwing in the towel or the sponge or the cards, or you’re throwing up your hands.

Equivalent phrases in other languages include:

hodit flintu do žita = to throw a flint into the rye (Czech)
jeter le manche après la cognée = to throw the handle after the axe (French)
leggja árar í bát = to put oars in a boat (Icelandic)
do hata a chaitheamh leis = to throw your hat in (Irish)
gettare le armi = to throw away your weapons (Italian)
匙を投げる (saji o nageru) = to throw a spoon (Japanese)
подня́ть бе́лый флаг (podnjat’ belyj flag) = to raise the white flag (Russian)
leig an saoghal leis an t-sruth = to let the world flow (Scottish Gaelic)
baciti pušku u šaš = to throw a gun into the sedge (Serbian)
kasta yxan i sjön = to throw the axe into the lake (Swedish)
rhoi’r ffidl yn y to = to put the fiddle in the roof (Welsh)

More details of these phrases can be found on Wiktionary.

Do you have any others?

Whimperatives

15 March 2024 By Simon

When you ask someone to do something for you, but in an indirect kind of way, or in other words, you phrase an order or imperative obliquely as a question, this is apparently called a whimperative. For example, you might say “Would you mind closing the window?”, rather than the more direct “Please, close the window” or “Close the window!”. Or you might say “Why don’t you be quiet?” instead of “Be quiet” [source].

This word was coined by Jerrold Sadock, a professor of Linguistics at the University of Chicago, in an essay he wrote in 1970. It’s a blend of whimper and imperative. Another term for a whimperative is interrogative directive [source].

A whimper is a low intermittent sob, and to whimper means to cry or sob softly and intermittently, to cry with a low, whining, broken voice, to whine, to complain, or to say something in a whimpering manner [source].

It is probably of imitative origin, or may by related to wimmern (to whimper, moan) in German. The words wimp and wimpy possibly come from whimper, and were likely influenced by the charcter J. Wellington Wimpy in the Popeye comics [source].

The word imperative (essential, crucial, expressing a command) comes from the Latin word imperātīvus (of or proceeding from a command, commanded), from imperō (to comand, give orders to, demand, rule, govern), from in- (in) and parō (to arrange, order, resolve) [source].

Words from the same roots include pare (to cut away the outer layer from something, especially a fruit or a vegetable) in English, parer (to adorn, bedeck, fend off) in French, parer (to stop, halt, put up, lift, stand up) in Spanish and paratoi (to prepare) in Welsh [source].

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Adventures in the world of words and language

Category: Welsh (Cymraeg)