Category: Welsh (Cymraeg)

Panceltic concert

By Simon

Last night I went to a great concert in St John’s (Balley Keeill Eoin) at which all the modern Celtic languages were sung and/or spoken, as well as English and French. It was wonderful to hear them all, and I even understood odd bits of the Cornish and Breton, the only Celtic languages I haven’t got round to studying yet.

I think it was the first time I’ve heard Breton spoken and sung live – I have heard recordings before though. I thought that it sounds kind of similar to French, but when you listen closely you realise that it isn’t French at all.

I spoke to various people in Manx, English, Welsh, French and a bit of Irish, and joined in with songs in Manx and Scottish Gaelic at the session in Peel (Purt ny hInshey) after the concert.

An Irish group called Guidewires will be playing in Peel tonight, supported by a Manx group called Scammylt, and before that there’s a talk on Welsh poetry by Mererid Hopwood.

Tomorrow I’m off to Gleann Cholm Cille in Donegal for a week of Irish language and music at Oideas Gael’s Irish Language and Culture Summer School.

Come-all-ye

By Simon

Last night I went to a fascinating talk by Cass Meurig about the history of the crwth (a type of medieval bowed lyre) and its place in Welsh music and tradition, which included songs in Welsh.

After the talk there was a very enjoyable ‘Come-all-ye’ singing session lead by Clare Kilgallon and members of Cliogaree Twoaie (‘Northern Croakers’), a Ramsey-based choir who sing in Manx and English. There were songs in Manx, English, Welsh and Cornish, and I did a Scots lullaby (Hush, Hush, Time to be sleeping).

I think the phrase ‘come-all-ye’ refers to the type of songs known as “Come all ye’s”, which tend to begin with “Come all ye (sons of liberty/ good people/ tramps and hawkers etc) and listen to my song”. That’s according to Dick Gougan anyway. We didn’t actually sing any such songs last night though.

Bro

By Simon

Last night one of my friends was wondering about the meaning of the Welsh word bro, which appears in some Welsh placenames, such as Bro Morgannwg (the Vale of Glamorgan). So I thought I’d find out.

Bro /bro:/ is a Welsh word meaning “region, country, vale, lowland”. It is used mainly in place names, and appears in the expression bro a bryn (hill and dale), and in papurau bro (local Welsh language newspapers). It is also part of such words as brodir (region, country) and brodor (native), and in Y Fro Gymraeg (The Welsh Language Area) – the parts of Wales where Welsh is the majority language. It is a somewhat similar concept to the Gaeltachtaí in Ireland, though has no official recognition.

The same word exists in Cornish and Breton and has the same meaning. The Breton names for regions of Brittany all begin with Bro, for example Bro-Leon (Léon), Bro-Wened (Vannetais) and Bro-Gernev (Cornouauille), and England is Bro-Saoz (‘Land of the Saxons’), and Scotland is Bro-Skos or Skos in Breton.

Llygad yr haul

By Simon

I heard the Welsh phrase llygad yr haul (eye of the sun) on the weather forecast on Radio Cymru this morning and thought it was a poetic way of describing sunny weather. I think it appears in a sentence something like Bydd sawl mannau dan llygad yr haul yfory (“Many places will be under the sun’s eye tomorrow”).

In English you might talk about the eye of a storm, but I haven’t heard the expression the eye of the sun or the sun’s eye used in relation to the weather. Are there similar expressions in other languages?

Multilingual poetry

By Simon

On Sunday I attended an evening of multilingual poetry in Bangor that feature poets from Wales and India who read poems in Welsh, English, Bengali, Malayalam and Manipuri. It was part of a project to build links between Wales and India which involved the Welsh poets translating poems by the Indian poets into Welsh, and vice versa. They also translated their poems into English. A similar event will be taking place in Ultracomida in Aberystwyth tomorrow.

I could understand the poems in Welsh quite well, and while I didn’t understand any of the poems in the languages of India, it was fascinating just to hear these three very different languages, each of which belongs to a different language family – Bengali is Indo-Aryan, Malayalam is Dravidian and Manipuri is Tibeto-Burman. Unfortunately I didn’t get any recordings of them so I can’t share them with you.

Understanding poetry in foreign languages can be quite challenging, even if you speak them well. Poetic language can differ from every day language in various ways, but I find it worth the effort to try to read and appreciate poems in their original languages rather than just relying on translations.

Wedi 7

By Simon

Neithiwr roedd y Clwb Uke Bangor ar S4C ar y rhaglen Wedi 7 (tua diwedd y rhaglen) – ein ychychdig eiliadau o enwogrwydd! Ro’n innau ar y rhaglen yn siarad yn fyr yn Gymraeg efo Meinir Gwilym, y gohebydd crwydrol ar gyfer Gogledd Cymru, ac un o fy hoff cantorion Cymraeg.

Last night Bangor Uke Club was on the S4C programme Wedi 7 (towards the end of the programme) – our few moments of fame! I appeared briefly on the programme talking in Welsh with Meinir Gwilym, the roving reporter for North Wales, and one of my favourite Welsh singers.

Canu am Ddŵr y Gogledd

By Simon

Côr Canu am Ddŵr y Gogledd yn canu tu allan neuadd y dre Manceinion

Ddoe es i i Fanceinion efo’r Côr Cymunedol Bangor i gymryd rhan mewn Canu am Ddŵr y Gogledd neu Sing for Water North. Daeth tua 300 o bobl o gorau o ogeledd-orllewin Lloegr a gogledd Cymru efo’n gilydd i ganu ac i godi pres am yr elusen Wateraid. Mi adawon ni Fangor am 8 o’r gloch y bore ac aethon ni mewn coets i Fanceinion.

Ar ôl cyrraedd yn Manceinion, mi dreulion ni y bore yn ymarfer yn y neuadd mawr yn neuadd y dre – neuadd ac adeilad syfrdanol efo acwstig gwych. Ar ôl tamaid o ginio, dechreuodd y berfformiad tu allan neuadd y dro yn Sgwar Albert efo côr o Fanceinion yn canu dwy gân, ninnau yn canu dwy gân, ac yna pawb yn canu efo’n gilydd. Wrth i ni gorffen y gân olaf, mi gyrhaeddodd y parêd Dydd Manceinion.

Pan cyrhaeddodd y parêd aeth hi yn swnllyd iawn yn y sgwar ac mi dihangon ni i Starbucks am banaid a sgwrs. Yna aeth rhai ohonon ni i oriel celf Manceinion, ac yna mi aethon ni gatre.

Mae fideos y perfformiad ar gael ar YouTube.

Immersion

By Simon

I spent yesterday in Aberystwyth with two Czech friends and we talked in a mixture of Czech, Welsh and English, with occasional bits of other languages thrown in for good measure. When they were speaking Czech to each other I found that I could understand or guess enough to get a basic idea of what they were talking about, and in some instances I could understand quite a bit more.

While I have been learning Czech on and off (more off than on in fact) for quite a few years, I rarely get the chance to listen to Czech conversations, apart from on online radio, and I was pleased to recognise quite a few of the words and phrases my friends were using. I couldn’t contribute much to the Czech parts of the conversation myself, but that will come with practise.

Quite a lot of the vocabulary and structures they were using have appeared in my Czech courses or in Czech texts I’ve read, so I was at least somewhat familiar with them already. Hearing these things used in context really helped to fix them in my mind. It also helped that I could ask about anything I didn’t understand – this is not possible when I’m listening to online radio or watching films or TV programmes.

This kind of immersion can happen anywhere you can find some native speakers of a language you’re learning (L2) who are willing to help you. Being in a country where your L2 is spoken is an even better form of immersion, but might not be possible for everyone.

Web grazing

By Simon

I came across the word brigbori in a Welsh book I’m reading at the moment (Shamus Mulligan a’r Parot, gan Harri Parri) and was a bit puzzled by it at first. I guessed from the context that it means something like ‘to browse’, and my Welsh dictionary confirmed this – it means to browse or to nibble. It appears in the sentence:

“Gan ei bod hi’n bnawn eithriadol o braf penderfynodd Ceinwen ac Eilir gymrd eu ‘te Sul’ yn yr ardd: Ceinwen yn brigbori drwy y goedwig o dudalennau a ddaeth gyda’r papur Sul a’i gŵr yn gwylio’r pysgod aur yn nofio’n esmwyth ar hyd wyneb y llyn llonydd ac ambell un ohonynt, oherwydd y gwres, yn sugno’r awyr â’i geg.

This means something like, “As it was an exceptionally fine afternoon, Ceinwen and Eilir decided to take ‘Sunday tea’ in the garden: Ceinwen browsing through the forest of pages that came with the Sunday paper, and her husband watching the goldfish swimming quietly across the surface of the quiet lake, with some of them, because of the heat, sucking in air with their mouths.”

Brigbori is a combination of two words – brig (top, summit, twig) and pori (to graze), so could be interpreted as meaning “to graze across the top”, which is browsing is all about.

Brig appears in such expressions as brig y nos (dusk – “top of the night”), glo brig (open-cast coal – “top coal”), brigdorri (to prune – “to cut the top”), brigiad (outcrop), brigladd (to lop the tops – “to kill the top), briglwyd (hoary-headed – “grey top”).

Pori appears in poriant (pasture – also porfa) and porio (to pasture – obsolete). Pori is also used to mean ‘to browse the web’. or literally ‘to graze the web’, and the word for web browser is porwr (grazier, browser) – and old word put to new use.