Maltese (Malti)

Today I received some new translations for the Maltese phrases page, and what struck me when adding the phrases was the mixed nature of Maltese vocabulary – about half the words come from Italian and Sicilian, a quarter from English and the rest from Arabic.

The Italian/Sicilian borrowings I spotted include:
– Bonġornu = Good morning (Buonjorno)
– Bonswa = Good evening/night (Buena sera) – sounds more like the French bonsoir.
– Ċaw = Goodbye (Ciao)
– Awguri = Good luck (Auguri – best wishes in Italian)
– Skużi = Excuse me (Mi scusi)
– Grazzi = Thank you (Grazie)

Borrowings from English include:
– Hello
– Heppi berdej = Happy Birthday

Sometimes it’s difficult to spot such words at first due to the different spelling conventions of Maltese, but once you get used to them, they become more obvious. So if you know Italian or another Romance language it is possible to make some sense of Maltese.

You can hear the sounds of the Maltese alphabet and learn more some more words and phrases in Maltese on YouTube, and there are some online lessons here and here.

Do any of you speak Maltese or have you studied it?

Le mal de pays

One of the things that came up at the French conversation group last night was homesickness.

In French there are a number of ways to express this concept:
– nostalgique = homesick (adj)
– avoir le mal de pays = to be homesick (for a place/country)
– s’ennuyer de (sa famille) = to be homesick (for one’s family)
– avoir la nostalgie (de qch) = to be homesick (for something)

Example
L’odeur de l’herbe lui donna la nostalgie de la ferme de ses parents.
The smell of the grass made her homesick for her parents’ farm.

The Welsh word for homesickness is hiraeth /hɪəraɪ̯θ/, which is apparently one of those words that is untranslatable. It means homesickness tinged with grief or sadness over the lost or departed. It is a mix of longing, yearning, nostalgia, wistfulness, and the earnest desire for the Wales of the past. It has similarities to saudade in Portuguese and morriña in Galician [source].

Do other languages have words with a similar meaning?

Kidnap

One of the words we discussed at the French conversation group last night was kidnap, which is enlever or kidnapper (verb) and enlèvement (noun) in French. We wondered where the English word comes from, so I thought I’d investigate.

According to the OED, kidnap originally meant “to steal or carry off (children or others) in order to provide servants or labourers for the American plantations” and came to mean “to steal (a child), to carry off (a person) by illegal force”. It is formed of kid (child) and nap (to snatch, seize).

The word kid comes from the Middle English kide/kede/kid (young goat), is thought to come from the Old Norse kið /cʰɪːð/ (young goat), from the Proto-Germanic *kiðjom. It started to be used as a slang expression for child in about the 1590s, and was considered low slang at first, but by the 19th century it was accepted in informal usage.

The word nap (to seize, catch; to arrest; to steal) is of uncertain origin. It is possibly related to the Norwegian word nappe (to tug, snatch, arrest) and the Swedish nappa (to snap, snatch). Then again, it might be related to nab (to seize, to catch and take into custody, to apprehend, arrest, to imprison).

The Welsh for kidnap is herwgipio /hɛrʊˈgɪpɪɔ/, from herw (raid, wandering) and cipio (to capture, snatch, grab). Herw also appears in herwhela (to poach) – hela = to hunt; herwlong (pirate ship); and herwr (prowler, robber, outlaw).

Gloomth

According to Bill Bryson in At Home, A Short History of Private Life, Gloomth describes the ambience of neo-Gothic or Gothick architecture.

It was coined by Horace Walpole (1717-1797), an art historian, playwright, antiquarian and politician who revived the Gothic style and applied it to his house, Strawberry Hill, which he built in south-west London. He also wrote a Gothic novel, The Castle of Otranto, and is credited with coining or introducing over 233 words into English, including airsickness, fairy tale, falsetto, frisson, impressario, malaria, mudbath, serendipity and souvenir.

Here are some examples of how Walpole used gloomth (from the OED):

– One has a satisfaction in imprinting the gloomth of abbeys and cathedrals on one’s house.
– [Strawberry] is now in the height of its greenth, blueth, gloomth, honeysuckle, and seringahood*.
– Strawberry, with all its painted glass and gloomth.

*seringahood = the condition of abounding in seringa bloom. Seringa is any of the shrubs of the genus Philadelphus common in gardens; the mock-orange and the word comes via French from the Latin syringa, from the Greek συριγγ- from σῦριγξ (syrinx – pipe, tube, channel, fistula)

Gloom comes from the Middle English gloum(b)e, from the Old English *glúmian.

Gothic comes from the Goth, from the Old English Gota, from the late Latin Gothī/Gotthī, from the Greek Γόθοι, from the Gothic *Gutôs/*Gutans. The Gothic people, a Germanic tribe that invaded parts in of Eastern and Western Europe between the 3rd and 5th centuries AD, called themselves Gutþiuda (Gothic people).

Mackerel currants

Groseille à maquereau is the French word for gooseberry, a word that came up last night at the French conversation group, and which none of us knew the French equivalent for.

Groseille means currant, light red or cherry red, and maquereau means mackerel. So groseille à maquereau could be translated as “mackerel currant”. Another French word for gooseberry is groseille verte or green currant.

Groseille also means redcurrant (ribes rubrum). So what’s the link between redcurrants and gooseberries? Well, the redcurrant is acutally part of the gooseberry family grossulariaceae.

A related fruit is the blackcurrant (ribes nigrum) or cassis / groseillier noir, which is part of the gooseberry family as well.

[Addendum] Appartently one possible reason why gooseberries are associated with mackerel in French is because mackerel and gooseberry sauce go well together. Here’s a receipe for mackerel with gooseberry sauce.

神马都是浮云

神马都是浮云 (shénmǎ dōu shì fúyún)is a Chinese phrase I learnt yesterday which means something like “everything is fleeting / transient” or “nothing is permanent”. The 神马 part is internet slang for 什么 (shénme) = what, and 浮云 [浮雲] (fúyún) means floating clouds, fleeting, transient. This is apparently a popular phrase in China at the moment, particularly online.

Another phrase that’s popular online at the moment is 有木有 (you mùyou) instead of 有没有 (yǒu méiyǒu) = “have not have” – this is a typical form of question in Mandarin Chinese. For example, 你有没有时间? (nǐ yǒu méiyǒu shíjiān?) = Do you have time? If you translate such questions literally into English they can sound rude – “You have not have time?” or “You have time or not?”, but this is fine in Chinese.

Sources:
http://www.mdbg.net
http://baike.baidu.com/view/4531752.htm
http://baike.baidu.com/view/5347838.htm

Stooshie

Stooshie [ˈstɑʃi, ˈstɪʃi, ˈstʌʃi] is a Scots word I came across recently that means an uproar, a commotion, a fuss, a row, a brawl, a fight, a fuss, commotion or to-do. It is often crops up in relation to protests and complaints – people might create a stooshie about something they don’t like or which displeases them.

The Online Scots Dictionary spells this word stishie [‘stɪʃi, ‘stʌʃi, ‘staʃi] or strushie [‘strʌʃi, ‘struʃi] and defines it as “an uproar, hubbub, disturbance, commotion, turmoil, quarrel, brawl, row. A frolic, banter.” When used as a verb it means “to engage in a frolic, to banter, bandy words.” and the past participle is stishit or stishied.

The Dictionary of the Scots Language / Dictionar o the Scots Leid spells this word stashie, stashy, stachie; stushie, steeshie, steishie and stishie and defines it as “an uproar, hubbub, disturbance, commotion, turmoil, quarrel, brawl, row”.

Some examples include:

– Mony an aukward stashie was he in. (Many an awkward stashie was he in)
– The hail toun’s been in a stushie about it. (The whole town’s been in a stushie about it)
– There was a great stishie gaen on ower the road. (There was a great stishie going on over the road)
– Michty me, sic a muckle stushie at the clamjamphry in Embra! (Good heavens, such a mighty fuss at the gathering in Edinburgh!)

The origins of this word are uncertain, though it has been suggested that it might be a version of the English word ecstasy. Then again it might be related to the word stoush, which is used on Australia and New Zealand to mean fight or quarrel and is of uncertain origin.

Related words include:
stramash [strɑˈmɑʃ] – an uproar, commotion, hubbub, disturbance, a broil, squabble, row; to shatter, to smash to pieces.
collieshangie [kɔlɪ̜ˈʃɑŋi] – a noisy dispute, an uproar, row, disturbance

Sources
http://heritage.caledonianmercury.com/2011/03/04/useful-scots-word-stooshie/001942
http://www.doubletongued.org/index.php/dictionary/stooshie/
http://www.scots-online.org/dictionary/search.asp
http://www.dsl.ac.uk/
http://www.newstatesman.com/200104160022

Eyelid batting

The other day a friend asked me about the origins of the phrase “to bat an eyelid”, which is normally used in the negative – he didn’t bat an eyelid at the pink elephant in the fridge – and means that you don’t react or show emotion when surprised or shocked. Or in other words, you took it in your stride. We wondered way it’s ‘bat’, which seems a strange thing to do with your eyelids.

The same verb is used in the phrase “to bat ones eyes/eyelashes”, meaning to open and close your eyes very quickly several times, intending to be attractive to someone [source].

According to the OED, the verb to bat is a variant of bate (to flutter as a hawk), from the Old French batre (to contend, fight, strive, flutter), from the late Latin batĕre/battĕre, from the classical Latin batuĕre (to hit, beat, pound). This comes from the Proto-Indo-European prefix bhau- (to hit) [source], which is also the root of such English words as butt and batter.

Just playing around

In Mandarin Chinese when you want to talk about playing a musical instrument, there are quite a few different words you could use, depending on the type of instrument.

– 拉 (lā) is used for bowed instruments such as the 二胡 (èrhú), violin (小提琴 xiǎotíqín), viola (中提琴 zhōngtíqín) and cello (大提琴 dàtíqín), and also means to pull, drag, draw or chat.

– 彈 [弹] (tán) is used for the piano (鋼琴 [钢琴] gāngqín), and string instruments such as the guitar (吉他 jítā), and also means to pluck, spring, leap, shoot , fluff, flick and so on.

– 吹 (chuī) is used for wind instruments such as the 笛 dí (flute), 簫 xiào (bamboo flute) and clarinet (單簧管 [单簧管] dānhuángguǎn) and also means to blow, blast, boast, brag and to end in failure.

– 打 (dǎ) is used for the drums (鼓 gǔ) and other percussion, and also means to beat, strike, hit, break, type, fight and so on. As well as meaning to play/beat a drum, 打鼓 (dǎ​gǔ) also means to be nervous. 打 also means to play games such as golf – 打高爾夫球 [打高尔夫球] (dǎ gāo’ěrfū qiú), and also to play cards – 打牌 (dǎ pái).

If you want to talk about playing music in general without mentioning a specific instrument you could say 演奏 (yǎn​zòu) – to play a musical instrument, to perform music. I thought there wasn’t a general term like this in Chinese and that was what promoted me to write this post.

In other contexts, there are various was to translate to play in Chinese, including:

– 玩 (wán) is the most common one and can mean to play games (玩遊戲 [玩游戏] wán yóu​xì) or to have fun. In English the phrase “Are you coming out to play?” is usually only uttered by children, but the equivalent in Chinese, 你出來玩嗎? [你出去玩吗?] nǐ chūlái wán ma?, is used by both children and adults.

– 踢 (tī) means to kick and to play ball games such as football (soccer) – 踢足球 (tī zúqiú).

-弄 (nòng) means to play/fool/mess/toy with, to fix, do, manage or to handle – a useful word that can used in a variety of contexts.

Source: MDBG Chinese-English Dicitonary

Mynd i’r afael

Mynd i’r afael is a Welsh expression I’ve noticed quite a bit recently on Radio Cymru, and from the context in which it is used, I think it means something like “to try hard to deal with something”.

Here are some examples:

Angen i Brifysgol Cymru fynd i’r afael â dilysu canolfannau newydd, medd y Gweinidog Addysg, Leighton Andrews.
The University of Wales needs to address the validation of the new centres, said the Education Minister, Leighton Andrews.

[Source: BBC Newyddion]

Mae ‘na lawer o gymorth a chefnogaeth ar gael i bobl sy’n poeni am droseddu ac i’r rhai sydd am helpu i fynd i’r afael â throseddu.
Plenty of help and support is available to people who are worried about crime and those who want to help tackle crime.

[Source: www.direct.gov.uk]

NB. In both these examples mynd has mutated to fynd.

From these examples it seems that mynd i’r afael, which literally means “go to the grip/grasp/handle/hold”, means “tackle” “address” or perhaps “get a grip on”. Google translate gives “(to) address” for this term, as does the BBC Welsh dictionary. I got the impression from the context that quite a bit of effort was involved, but perhaps this is not always the case.

These days I tend to learn new words and expressions in Welsh, and in my other fluent languages, through extensive listening and reading. If I notice a word or phrase that crops up frequently, I’ll try and work out its meaning(s) from the context, and sometimes it takes a while to hone in on exact meaning(s). When I learn things in this way I tend to remember better than if I just look them up in a dictionary, though I do remember dictionary words if I use them quite a bit after looking them up.

How do you learn new vocabulary?