Sunday, November 21, 2010

Kafédin mé Hiĵagin, ta ofowin pa hiĵag ba xmeci (Wanderers and Sandmen, brothers in the mother desert)

Last night I finally got around to defining the difference between the two desert peoples of Wytn. For a very long time I had refused to do this, as I felt that they worked together as a rather cohesive group- but after viewing geography and seeing the difference in regions (which of course leads to differences, both subtle and overt, in lifestyle) I decided that defining these two groups would be a step forward in understanding the nomads.

What follows is a brief description of each, along with a picture showing the environment in which they are found. I expect to update this entry several times, so keep an eye out for changes.

Nuv ta kafédin - About the wanderers
The Kafédin are a nomadic people (hence the name) who live in the area of the mother desert which lack the iconic shifting sands of the high desert. They come together once ever 4 years in a massive great "festival", during which time the tribal leaders conduct a bride exchange between their peoples, territory negotiations with other tribe leaders, and copious amounts of trade. Because of their interconnectedness, the dialects of the yaundin ta kafédin are very closely connected, and between any given group the dialects are guaranteed to be understood.



Nuv ta hiĵagin - About the sandmen
The hiĵagin are famous for living in the massive rock complexes which crisscross beneath the shifting sands of the mother desert. Unlike their close relatives the kafédin, each group has its own distinctive dialect, and between different groups there is bound to be both a lack of understanding and hostility. The hiĵagin are tolerant towards their southern cousins, and from time to time trade and exchange women with them.


Img sources:
* found here.
** found here.
*** found here.
**** Northwestern University Library, Edward S. Curtis's 'The North American Indian': the Photographic Images, 2001.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Ba lēava (The Fog)


(Care to listen?)

Ba lēava baféd
ber stén frn nahx
bakep karaugi
ba kaevob mé tufanab
o ta lozan eratin ba
mé unî baféd ébian.


The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

Found here.

Yxmî ba kémian... (I said to the man...)


(Wanna listen to it?)

Yxmî ba kémian, kaxovo pal ba pag ba ivlú- "Olēétora fian yéâdab, ân saf yméâ ân tréka pa ba meadab, faé me baahl neousai." Rial kaxmî "Olēéféd pa ta noalabin, mé olēépútú ba ufeb ó ba ufe jwr. Jéd siadauzoi baahl faé yéâda, mé siadsafi faé fiahc usai."

(note: recording left out the word 'saf'. Sorry!)


I said to the man who stood at the Gate of the Year, "Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown." And he replied, "Go out into the darkness, and put your hand into the Hand of God. That shall be better than light, and safer than a known way.

Found here.

Niapiartalēp of the Blue Flowers - A tale from the Ilyun

At that time, there was a maiden named Niapiartalep who had fallen deeply in love. As with all first loves, this love was heavy and unavoidable. De'viat, who adores love, of course knew of it- and watched over this maiden in her doings.

But this girl had fallen in love with a monk of the Jovers*, the name of which was Talbet. In those days, the monks of the Jovers took no women and swore themselves to chastity, and forbade themselves the sight of women. For it is said that De'viat also adores truthfulness and assumed virtue.

The idea to win him over from his vows came to Niapiartalep one evening when she was staring in the waters of the cave in which her home was. She observed the ripplings of the water, and the alteration of her face- and she said to herself 'What things are man and permanence, that even the water can change the appearance of both stone and flesh without a moment's effort? All things change. Let me change Talbet as well, that we be forever happy together. It is true he is a good man, and surely my father will approve of our union.”

But her father had refused many suitors before who had come to take flight with his daughter, and there was no reason this should be any different. Laden with problems and uncertainty, dear Niapiartalep went to sleep, tossing and turning because of her sadness.

Good De'viat came to her as she slept, looking sympathetically at her. "Surely you must understand that he has stepped from this life for something he considers meaningful," he said.

And Niapiartalep, who was still young and did not know to trust immediately the words of God, said "What you have said, good De'viat, is true- but my heart does not allow me to capitulate in this matter."

Good De'viat, ever patient and mild, responded "You will speak to him one time, tomorrow, and ask him his opinion on this matter. I who am steeped in love cannot deny you this request. If there is softness for you there in his heart, he will be yours."

Niapiartalep woke happily the next morning and ran to find Talbet, who was praying at the alter of Me're*.

"Talbet, have you never felt happiness at the sight of me?", she asked.

The monk said nothing, but turned his eyes from her and looked instead to the statue of the woman and her child.

"I said, Talbet, will you be the friend of my heart?"

He stood and walked from the church. The girl Niapiartalep followed, still hopeful that perhaps he had not heard her.

"I said, Talbet, will you come and be with me before my father?"

Talbet turned on her scorningly, his eyes hardened against her advances.

"You dare ask me such things in the house of my wife, the lady Me're- I ignored you, thinking that you were joking. And then you asked me again, after I turned my eyes to the only woman that I have ever loved. And still not after I walked away from you did you stop. You will have it from my lips, then: I have no love for you."

Niapiartalep turned and ran from him to her home, where she fell into a tearful, fitful sleep.
As she slept, good De'viat came to her again, saying:
"Niapiartalep, that man is a monk. Such men love only one thing- that God and the mother of that God. There is no softness in his heart, and love has here no power."

But Niapiartalep was so distraught that she could not even speak to De'viat, who hears and knows all things.

Good De'viat, who is of the Weyr, and from whom the Weyr have sprung, knew that to recover from such a love was impossible. So he went to lord Nu'kiam, saying:
"O Nu'kiam, you are the one who knows many things. I who know love better than all cannot find a solution. This girl will die from a love so deep."

And Nu'kiam said: "Give me this woman and I will have her be what even this man cannot resist- and she will be with him forever."

And De'viat consented, and Niapiartalep consented, and Nu'kiam in in his way took the girl and turned her into a flower which was the most brilliant blue that had ever been seen.

And lord Nu'kiam caused that from that flower would come forth many seeds, and they would sprout there in the courtyard where Talbet so often prayed, so that in the morning when Talbet came out, he would see them and exclaim: "Oh Father, surely you intended these to honor your mother, the woman of blue*!"

And this the monk did the next morning after he had finished his prayers- such was his joy at seeing the beautiful flower of faithful Niapiartalep that he fell to his knees and gathered a bunch of the flowers immediately, laying Niapiartalep to his heart.

And he gathered these flowers every morning and lay them on the alter to the blue lady, keeping good Niapiartalep close to his heart for the rest of his days.

*Jovers, Me're : An early group of immigrant Christians, the Jovers, made a name for themselves by settling on the plains of Atipica and creating monasteries there (which had previously been unknown on Wytn). The Jovers still exist in very small numbers in Atipica, but mostly in their monasteries, where they number around 300. The sandic name of Mary (The Christian and Jover 'mother of god') was 'the blue woman' (so named for her blue cloak), or Me're.

Friday, November 19, 2010

The Great Storm - a tale from the Ilyun.


Not so very long ago, great lord Núkiam, who had grown distant from the world since the death of Ĵewú*, decided that mankind had grown fat and evil because of his long lenience. Déviat was convinced of this also. Determined to scour the world of this evil, lord Núkiam caused there to be a great sandstorm, the likes of which had never before been seen.

It stripped the flesh from the men and women, and killed the children also. The tongues of the cattle grew thick in their mouths, suffocating them. Everything was buried in sand, baking beneath the sun which is the left eye of the great lord Núkiam.

Near sunset, a child in the village of Tamen, which was the last place on Earth the sand had not yet buried, cried out its true name** to the approaching winds, then begged of Déviat, protector and child of the Weyr, mercy.

And even good Déviat, who is ever wise and mild, at first did not want to hear the truth in that child's cries. He covered his ears and sang loudly. But as Déviat is of the Weyr, and the Weyr are of Déviat, try as he might he could not ignore that child's pleas.

But Núkiam refused to stop the slaughter. So Déviat, ever wise and protecting, seduced Núkiam and Núkiam fell into a drunken sleep.

Déviat guided the hand of Núkiam, and the sands were made to stop.

And all of mankind lives again by the hand of Déviat.

Notes for foreigners:
* Ĵewú is the third of Núkiam's lost loves. She died because she could not live on Earth, and until Núkiam found Déviat, the god was despondent and angry.
** true name: Every Weyr person (at least those of the Tréi kémani) is given a small glyph which represents their name at the time they are born. To reveal this name is considered very foolish, for the name is thought to be the source of a person's true power. As long as no one knows one's true name, one cannot (with the exception of gods, demigods, and greater bad spirits) control that person. The child shows selflessness and so is spared and awakens the compassion in Déviat's heart.
*** Image source:

Monday, November 15, 2010

Ivi kasa... LoCoWriMo 2010

Ba tavel ba kaxneot raug amebi, kaxneot sa frn kia okama, a kaxsa ân ta ostonén ta semin ba ere, oxahl berbénoin, daeyúin, mé baahl ra okama jéb, baxwîc ba ere, skra déviat kabra ivi, mé fî ân kaneot wîcig ân iad ba ereb ba nabei, ba poc ba da ba tavel batavig usmeti.
Jésrît kaxmalēî faé ta keman ka, mé otian kaxmî frn ba malēl ba da ka, mé kaxmî otian ân nalēu kaahl ere ba poc Étésea.
"Olēésu faé me ameb faé kunere." kaxmî ba ere nabei. "Otatara wenai, frnsai, auzeri. Ta ivlún aé ototara berain faé ta ivlún me. Otatara deyai, dé poc fovi."
Mé ta keman oxen nât faé ba jam, mé kaxrep ba ere ba nabei, kajilēri.


Ta keman oxkre tjuin amebin deyain, oxahl amen wenain, auzeri. A neokéma ta uxkrein amen axahl frnsai. Be ere kaxaog ta amebin, kaxjae otian, a neokéma ta amen axahl faé ka.
Unî pagan oxav jtenin mé pa ba jamab baxtrékâ kémâ neousai, wenai, mé baxmî:
"Béenú me, lēé ba ere, baahl samiana."
Ta amen uxkrein oxahl temâin, skra ame aNEOT jae ba erebian- nu amî rial faé ta basan ka.
A jéb ba kémâ baxtrékâ ba erebian mé baxkléja ba ufeb ba ere, mé kaxenhâ lēai.
"Lēé ame- baahl lēéahl ame? Exsu lēiahb. Olēétara kunere me."
"Ymacig." Baxmî ba samiana, mé baxav kunere ba Étésea.

Translation of the above:
The young man who had not yet known a woman had no idea what he should do, but he knew that his father's last words were powerful and holy, and that he must do what the king had wished of him.
After all, Déviat hears everything*, and if he does not wish to help the new king any longer, the land of the youth's father would be torn apart.
So he called his servants, and he told them of his father's death, and that he was now king of Atasia.
"Find me a woman for queen." Said the new king. "Let her be beautiful, wise, good. Let her age be the same as mine. Let her be noble, and from a faraway land."
And his servants ran from the room, and the new king sat down, crying.


The servants brought many noble women, who were beautiful and good women. But none of these were wise. The king looked at the women, he spoke to them, but none of these women was for him.
Then suddenly the doors flew open, and in walked a person who was unknown to them, and this person said:
"My name, O king, is Samina."
The women were shocked at this, for a woman does not speak to a king, she only answers his questions. But this person walked to the king and kissed the hand of the king, and the king inhaled happily.
"O woman- are you a woman? I have found you. Be my queen."
"I would like that." Said Samina, and this person became queen of Atasia.

*a cultural note: Most Weyr people worship two gods, the names of which are Déviat and Núkiam. Núkiam is the ancient creator god, who has grown tired and careless of what happens to his creation. Déviat is a Weyr person who was saved from death at the hands of starvation in the distant past (he was an unwitting settler, who had crashed along with his family on the shores of Wytn as had so many others). Déviat became the consort of Núkiam and eventually a god in his own right, though he is primarily worshipped as the intermediary between Núkiam and the Weyr. It's said that unless one is in the good graces of Déviat's kind heart, only bad things can come. To ignore the final requests of a loved one is one of the few things that, in tradition, is guaranteed to bring horrible luck upon the doer.

Ivi kasa... LoCoWriMo 2010

Everyone knows...

Ivi kasa frn poc, nu baméâ ân lēlét tré ereb.

A jésrît, ba ere ba étésea, kaxara râ lēlai, mé kaxtem ân fî ân kamalēlig, ba poc baneot lēlétig ereb. Kaxlēlétra ofoŵinab, a ba ofoŵin ka, kaxahl nu tavel, mé ameb kaxneot raug.
Jémohn ba ere kaxmalēî ofoŵinian ka, skra kaxahl kamalēli. Ba tavel kaxahl ra tufâki, mé kaxmî, baxahlco ŵhé kamî ivi ofoŵin auzoi, "Lēé da me, lēiab yraug, lēiab ykoe, lēian ymî ra: fî ân péwîc ân obamectav daniab, biab etema, daniab ytekre lēian, daniabra ytema, lēé ba da me."

Grel kaxjae ba ere kamalēli, mé unî kaxmî- "Lēé ba ofoŵ me, epétara ere jéb ba poc, mé ysa ân epétara ere auzoi faé ba, a dab ymacig fî ân pébamaig."

Mé kaxneot anane ba tavel, mé kaxmî: "Da me, fî ân daniab péwîc, biab ytemara."

Mé ber skae ba semi ka, ba ere kaxmî: "Opélēlét ameb faé kunere."

About: This is another rendition of the same story I sort of tried to write last year (And I don't count it as cheating, since the other story only had a paragraph (five sentences) before I gave up). It's about the two kings of Étésea, famous co-rulers of the nation from 1630 c.e. to 1680 c.e. (Yes, that's 50 years!).

I won't say any more about this story quite yet, except that it's got a few major twists in it which make it very interesting.

Translation of the (story) above:

Everyone knows that a land can only have one king.

Once upon a time, The king of Atasia was very old, and he was afraid that if he died, his land would no longer have a king. He did have a son, but his son was a young man, and had not known a woman. One day, the king called to his son because he felt that he was dying. The son was very sorrowful and he said (as any good son would say): "O my father, I see you, I hear you, and I say to you truly: If you wish that anything be done, I will do it, I will carry anything to you, I will do anything, my father."

Slowly the spoke the dying king, but then suddenly: "O my son, I am king of this land, and I know that you will be a good king to this land: but there is one thing that I would like for you to do."

And the son did not hesitate, he said: "My father, If you wish for anything, I will do it."

And with his last breath, the king spoke: "Take a woman as your queen."

Taraminact ba ere Äȑthar

The story of Arthur Pendragon

"Felē eahl Äȑthar Piandragon, faé England ere. Pal eslēam ba jam frn siap me, baahl ba plat hamari. Ba jam frn siap baahl mead, pa ba apen oturaj: tukan frn trakan, sukan frn apeact, dîjjckan frn dîjj uxtrecin. Ivi frn élsol kalēlét kambab ân mî.
Ivisrît pa kia ebra, felē esore ân eahl ere. Jéb baahl béno frn auzeri kambâ. Srît, ta kéman pal ba plat hamari oneot mî. Jésrît felē exsin ân mî kambab frn me.

A gator exmî biab- tu plî..."

"I am Arthur Pendragon, king of England. In the middle of my chamber, there is the round table..."

I've had a children's book with me since I managed to complete high school (I think it's one I accidentally kept from a literature teacher who'd lent it to me)- and the colorful pictures and simple story the book contains have gradually won me over to translating it. The book is small- 44 half-pages in all - but it still constitutes the largest text that I'll have yet translated into any of my languages.

The story in the book is just complex enough to really be a challenge to me (How to say 'at that moment, a ray of sunlight came gliding through the trees', or 'though it was noon, night fell'?) and just simple enough to change quickly while I'm working, to keep me interested.

Translating has given me a lot of story-related words which I would not have otherwise thought to include in my lexicon. As a result, Sandic now has words for:

alēan - deck of a ship
jéda faé hel - torch
tialia - though/despite/even though
temâ - suprise

So far, I have translated 9 of the 44 pages- and it's been an adventure. I plan to eventually complete the book. But then what? I want to share my work, but I don't know if legally I can.
I'll figure something out, though.

Just wish me patience in translating!

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Estate records of Klé Rankj

The tablet which is engraved with information on the estate of an elderly gentleman, Klé Rankj. dated around 320 c.e.

A notable find was made earlier this week in the small town of Madan in Youndétr. A local farmer, S'ge Naranj, while clearing out some of the older flooring materials in the family house, discovered a very small, rather thin clay tablet. Curious as to what it was, he brought it to the local archaelogical team.

The team is bubbling over with excitement on account of this simple clay object.

"I've never seen the like," said team leader Joseph Asfeld when asked why this particular tablet is so valuable. "There are pictograms used multiple times on the tablet- something we've only ever found in artifacts from the Tribe of the East. This suggests a western origin for them." He went on to explain that the tablet itself is a personal record done for one Klé Rankj in about the year 320. It was probably buried when the house partially collapsed in the great earthquakes of 420, after the old man died.

Further clarification on the ramifications of the artifact came from Sasha Alexi, an expert in ancient Cat sign.

"You see, Cat sign in its written form is found all over the continent- but almost never combined with local writings, and never from this time period. As everyone knows, the Cat weren't exiled from Atipica until around 700 c.e. during the Great Drought. The fact that these markings are being used about 400 years before the Cat even existed is really compelling evidence that the writing must have first been developed in the west, and then spread eastward, where the Cat adopted it and began using it to write their language."

The pictograms which have everyone so excited are relatively simple little etchings, but their like has never been found in an area of First Tribe prominence.

The tablet, which is in remarkably good condition for something its age, even shows traces of a pressing cloth which was used to flatten it. The use of cloth in the formation of clay tablets is a characteristic of the work of early Yaundi scribes. Though a thorough search was conducted on the man's property, nothing further has - of yet- been found.

Friday, September 24, 2010

'Artifacts', or the joy of creating things out of clay.

Funerary artifacts from a number of tombs. Recovered from the middle of Youndétr, and dated between 20 b.c.e. and 130 c.e.

I'll admit it- I've always had a thing for clay. Ever since I was a kid, I've always had my hands in the earth- and so it comes perhaps as a natural step that I would combine two things which I love- sculpted artwork and created languages.

In the past half a week or so (That's three or four days), I've made about 20 items, all of varying sizes and complexity- and all representative of various stages of Yaundi culture.

A calendar, which lists the names of all 12 months- and prominently displays a stylized image of
Núkiam and Déviat. This image was popular in early times, and artifacts bearing it have been found all over Youndétr.

The result has been remarkably... agreeable, I think. While the first tablet I made (which bore a hymn to Déviat and baked into pieces) was less than successful, over the few days that I've been working on these things, I've decided that this is definitely something I plan to continue doing. There's just something about holding in your hands something made of stone which has your language written on it, which makes it all worthwhile.

Depending on how adventurous I feel in the future (and considering how I've already got wood drying for it, the possibility seems considerable), I may decide to create artifacts for Second Tribe, or even for the Cat.

Clay coins which are traditionally buried with the dead, for the purposes of bribing spirits into escorting them to the home of Déviat. Dated from 1 c.e. to 100 c.e.

I wish I had better skill at carving detail, or had access to actual clay (Everything pictured here has been made out of salt dough or a salt dough/sand mixture), but that is, is.

I've got some clay tools in the mail to me right now, so keep an eye out for new items added to this blog!

A tablet inscribed with the words 'skra ba auzoi'. They open a popular folk song which gives praise to the gods (And Núkiam in particular) for sustaining First Tribe in the harsh desert.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

The story about the farmer whose horse ran away

The challenge of the week Sep. 20 - 27 2010 is 'The story about the farmer whose horse ran away'. (Original, I think, can be found here.)

Sandic comes first, of course, with a translation out of that translation, into English. Because I'm such a perfectionist, I really doubt I'll be recording this for you anytime soon. I'm sorry. I just can't stand recording with errors in them. ;)

Srîtnia baxĵew feloka, frn kia baxjard ba klamek. Onjka ba feloka, kaxahl wîkiaci, mé kaxféd safpaian ba feloka ân mî jéd, a ba feloka nu kaxmî:
"Kia kasa frn kia baahl auzoi ú lenai?"
Auniai baxahl jéd ba mî.

Gre tré mohn baxféd eĵ ba klamek, mé kakféin biab oxahl soir mé tré klamekan neourecin, otiahb baxsu ba klamek ba feloka mer zialda ba.
Kaxféd eĵ safpaian ba feloka ba onjka, ân mî kian frn ta auzerin dan, a nu eĵ kaxmî ba feloka:
"Kia kasa frn kia baahl auzoi ú lenai?"
Eĵ ba mî bazahl auniai.

Gre tré mohn kaxpetre ân tag tré ta klamekan neourecin ba drialēzka ba feloka, a kaxyum dé tag, mé baxav saupéti ba loz ka.
Kaxféd eĵ safpaian ba feloka ba onjka, ân mî kian frn ba lenain dan, a nu kaxmî:
"Kia kasa frn kia baahl auzoi ú lenai?"
Eĵ kiab kaxmî ba feloka, baxahl auniai.

Skra eĵ gre tré mohn ba ere ba poc kaxmî ân ebatara dîĵc, mé kaxmî ân ta tavelan opasi iactav faé ba dîĵcar, a pa skra frn ba loz ba drialēzka baxahl saupéti, kaxneot ahl umapasi ân iactav.

Once there was a farmer whose horse had run away. The farmer's neighbor, who was sympathetic, went to him to talk of the bad things- but the farmer simply said
"Who knows what is good, and what is bad?"
And the farmer was right.

The next day, the horse returned- and with it came eleven wild horses which his horse had found on its travels.
And the neighbor came back to speak to the farmer of these good things, but the farmer simply said
"Who knows what is good, and what is bad?"
And again, the words of the farmer were true.

The day after that, the farmer's son was trying to ride one of the wild horses- but he fell from his riding, and his arm was broken.
And again the neighbor came, to talk of these bad things- and again the farmer only said:
"Who knows what is good, and what is bad?"
And again what the farmer said was true.

The day after that, the king of the land declared there was to be a war, and he decreed that all youths must join the army. But because the arm of the farmer's son was broken, he did not have to enlist.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Kamai jaeactab

Kamai jaeactab
Listen to it

Jémohn ber taznidan me,
yma jaeactab.
yholdc biab o ufe me,
mé yska pa biab ĵewab.

Yxsin, kauraugi biab, ân yahlco whé jwr-
kiab ywîc faé ba jaeact, etbatara.
a wî baahlra yahlco whé erinké faé gezo;
biab ypasi masaf, biab ypasi malēim, biab ypasi ora damab.

mé natul ysa:
skra me baĵew - a skra ba,


Making a language

Today, with my friends,
I am making a language.
I hold it in my hands,
and breathe life into it.

I think, as I look at it, that I'm like a god-
What I want of this language, will be.
But I'm also like a parent to a child-
I must protect it, I must take of it, I must feed it.

And suddenly I know:
It lives because of me, but I live
because of it.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Original Poems and the Starlings' Song

Over the past few days, working on my conlang has meant that it's been constantly on my mind. I've been a creative state because of this, and out of the day-to-day nonsense of my life have sprung several little poems.
While I would like to share them with you in both transscribed and native-script versions, I am unfortunately unable to do so due to my computer being... dead. Thus, I guess we'll have to make due with only the transcriptions. I apologize, but do try to enjoy them anyway!

Disclaimer: These are all free-form and rather awful, because I'm not a poetic sort of person. They were, though, fun to write. I don't recall ever using the language this way before- with the exception of a few journal entries which I made over long periods of time.

You'll notice 'god' appears in most of these. I'm not spastically religious (and in fact don't associate myself with any mainstream organized religion at all), and figured I'd nip suspicions of that in the bud. Thus, read 'god' as God, not related to any religion in particular, but as Dryghtyn, perhaps- or The One.

Every poem here is 'new' and 'fresh', written by me- with the exceptions of 'kant ta starlen', which is of course from the first translation relay.

5i mohn ba silēetiw 2010

Kéamjén oav pîrin,
frn jéb emac.
Skra kia ba oka ta lucan?

wenai, ba wîc jwr.

Ba liape
8i mohn ba silēetiw 2010

pal ba kémaréj,
yxĵémz dé kaevo liapeab.
Rekami kaahl.
Rekamei, wî améi.

Erini srît, kaxbamo ò plat
kaxneot zeb.

A unî, natul, kaxrep ân enha.

Ykaja, lēé jwr.

Pa kémaréj
9i mohn ba silēetiw 2010

Exjeta pa kémaréj
ivin ta lenadabin me
otiahb exsore

Exjeta pa kémaréj
baxav hui mekâ me
y kaja lēé jwr

pa kémaréj

10i mohn ba silēetiw 2010

Kîb ykoe,
Ywîc ân katé,
pa safpa saafi,

Felē wî kolé me,

Kant ta starlen
13i mohn ba silēetiw 2010

Kant ta starlen baahl nuv apeactin man,
Pa kîmî frn helav, bamalēim jédathî kelobin ba
mer nocr lark banúk kimlabin ba
kia kasa ba raactab ta thîan?


Gréfeluc (Autumn)
Fifth day of September 2010

The leaves are turning red,
And I am joyful because of this.
What reason is there for the happening of seasons?

beautiful, what god wants.

Ba liape (The dragonfly)
Eighth day of September 2010

at the pool,
I saved a dragonfly from the water.
He is blue.
Blue and green.

For a long time, he lay on the table
and did not move.

But then, suddenly, he began to breathe.

I thank you, God.

Pa kémaréj (In the pool)
Ninth day of September 2010

I was swimming in the pool
All of my problems
I forgot them

I was swimming in the pool
My mind became peaceful
thank you, god

in the pool

Aŵbamo (we lie down)
Tenth day of September 2010

I'm drinking tea,
it's peppermint.
I'm sleepy,
in this safe house.

My dog and I,
We lie down.

Kant ta starlen (The starlings' song)
Thirteenth day of September 2010

The starlings' song is about heroic deeds,
In the morning rains the heron cleans its clothes
In the nighttime the lark worships its stars
Who knows the true nature of birds?

Friday, September 10, 2010

Yara anù. - I'm sorry.

Due to technical difficulties (the laptop that I was using to regularly access the web going kablooey), I'm not going to be able, probably, to update this blog every day. I will do my best to keep up with it, but as this might well involve a trip to the library or tech center for each post, please understand if on a given day I don't post a something new.
As soon as my computer situation becomes more stable again, the posts will, of course, go back to normal.

Friday, September 3, 2010

Swadesh list and word generators

SO, for the longest time now, I've been meaning to translate the words in the Swadesh list into Sandic. The list itself has many useful words, and as it's my intention to have Sandic be wholly usable for any situation (even if only by myself), it's the perfect challenge.

..Well, that and the Conlang Test Sentences.

Today, I got to work on the Swadesh list, and as a result I now have 20-odd new words. I'm only about a third of the way through now, too!

A sampling of the new words, about which I am understandably very much excited:
- tooth
- tongue
- lie (ripozi)
- vomit
- spit
- rope
- tie
- sew
- shoot

I'm looking forward to finishing the list, and then working the test sentences. Wish me luck!

Sunday, August 29, 2010

This is a true story.

I've never met this person before that I know, but today (that is, this morning/evening/middle of the dark-time of day between the 29th ending and the 30th beginning) I met a certain taronyu in #conlang at freenode.

He's got an interesting project going on where he's trying to create a language in just a month- and is succeeding remarkably! This is his first language, but after just a month his critter is likely more complete than my own, which has been seeing work over the past six or so years!

Check out his blog [here]. (In about a week, I've been told, that link will no longer work. He plans to move the entire blog [here] afterward. Feel free to click here to see his stuff, if the first link no longer works.)

In the meantime, here's the paragraph he posted:

Hello. This is a true story. I have many such stories. Yes, some are made-up. Although now is the time which we have forgotten. Maybe to someone these stories are true. I also know many true stories, because many strange things which you southerners are not able to dream happen in the northern islands.

And here's my translation of it:

G'alo. Jéb ba kambâ baahl rai. Ysa erinin kambabin, oahlto whé ba. Baahlra, midin ta kamban oahl unuvxsinin, a jésrît jéb awsore. Baahlnia, kémanian jégú ta kamban oahl rain. Wî ysa erin kambabin rain, skra erin dan neodusniatin otoka pal ta rejin foran, frn kia lēé ta étblēakéman ân xsin lēéneot méâ.

Also, try out an interlinear:

G'alo. Jéb ba kambâ baahl rai. Ysa erinin kambabin, oahlto
Hello. This the story it-is true. I-know big/many stories, they-are(true comparison)

whé ba. Baahlra, midin ta kamban oahl unuvxsinin, a jésrît jéb awsore. Baahlnia,
like it. It-is-true, some the stories they-are about(arch.)thought, but this-time that we-forget. It-is(uncertain)

kémanian jégú ta kamban oahl rain. Wî ysa erin kambabin rain, skra erin dan
person(uncertain)the stories they-are true. And I-know big/many stories true, reason big/many things

neodusniatin otoka pal ta rejin foran, frn kia lēé ta étblēakéman ân xsin lēéneot méâ.
not-usual they-happen at the north islands, of which you the southerners to think you-not can.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Translation of the Intro for #conlang's Weekly Challenge.

Fenhl, from #conlang, recently created a website which is to be used for hosting and disseminating weekly conlang challenges for members of the chatroom.

As the first challenge is to translate the intro text and link it into the chat, I've done that and am showing it here.

Jéb baahl mada_ ba #conlang. Ivi ta hardan, iacté baahl utora frn ta ialthan ba jatrum; ivi ta ialthan oméâ kéndu ba haecdab pa jaeact(an)_ op. Fî ân lēéwîc, etawaplod ba kéndudab lēé. Olēéféd pa jatrumab, mé biab lenk olēétora wian.

Native script:

Monday, August 23, 2010

LCC3 Relay Text Translation

I wish I could have gone to the LCC3 which happened earlier this year. I couldn't and didn't, though, and because the next one's happening in Europe, I likely won't have a chance to go for years.

While looking through the Language Creation Society's website, I saw a link to information on the relay that they did there. I've never taken part in a relay before, but the poem seemed easy enough, and the idea bit me.

Here's the translation of their poem.

Care to listen as you read?

In Sandic, romanization
Katovoi ó jol_ ba for,
Kalēanei fovian ba réjil klé...

Ymahae ân jéb kamai yahlig,
Kalēanei fovian ba réjil klé.

Ivin ta mahaen_ mé paron_ me,
Kalēanein fovian ba réjil klé.

Yraug ploŵocab_ kunka_ me,
kalēanei fovian ba réjil klé.

In written Sandic, native script

In Sandic with interlineals
Katovoi ó jol_ ba for,
Standing on shore_ the island,
Kalēanei fovian ba réjil klé...
Floating awayward the waters along...

Ymahae ân jéb kamai yahlig,
I wish that that-thing doing I-would-be,
Kalēanei fovian ba réjil klé.
Floating awayward the waters along...

Ivin ta mahaen_ mé paron_ me,
All the(pl) wishes/hopes_ and dreams_ my,
Kalēanein fovian ba réjil klé.
Floating awayward the waters along.

Yraug ploŵocab_ kunka_ me,
I-watch boat_ lover's_ my,
kalēanei fovian ba réjil klé.
Floating awayward the waters along.

In English, translation of the above Sandic
Standing on the shore of the island,
Floating away with the waters,

I wish that I would be doing that,
Floating away with the waters.

All of my hopes and dreams,
Floating away with the waters:

I watch the boat of my mate,
Floating away with the waters.


Oh wait, that doesn't count for anything. ..I'm the only one playing, so of course I'll win that game here.

Enough silliness! This is a blog about languages!

Er, a language. But I mean 'languages' in the generic sense, so I guess the plural still applies.


But just one! Don't you love English?

Okay, okay. Really, I'm serious now. Seriously Serious. Serious... seriously. Serious Aaron is serious.

Szerious. Serious. Serious.


Hi, I'm Aaron. I'm a person with very little linguistic background, and aside from the advantage of speaking a few languages (ask if you want to know, otherwise I'm not going to act like I'm tooting my own horn here), I'm pretty clueless about languages.

When I was a kid, though, before people told me that I had to be book-learned to understand how languages are put together and function, I made up a language. Having read an Anne Mcaffery book in the past and completely forgotten it aside from the word 'Weyr', which floated around in my brain along with the rest of the semi-recycled ideaical nonsense, I seized upon the opportunity to use 'my' interesting word, and named the 'nonsense language' 'Weyr'.
Over time, 'Weyr' grew to be rather healthy-sized, as conlangs go (though for the longest time, I was fairly certain that I was the only person on the planet making up a language pretty much from scratch and was thus hesitant to work on it), eventually spawning two sister dialects and a conceptual cousin, a sign language, and two similar but separate writing scripts. That's not mentioning the world that this language led me to create and populate with fascinating people of all shapes and sizes.

I've never been part of the conlang posting lists or the fan clubs, and this is for two reasons. 1, I'm horrible with the technical side of grammar (though my conlang *does* have a set grammar, mind you, and it's not English-based at all), and 2, I'm not much of a people-person (which is amusing if you consider the fact that during the time I spend actively avoiding people who live near me, I'm using that time to create a world filled with... you guessed it, people).

Anyway, I'm going to hopefully be posting to this blog pretty regularly (watch me have said that and end up only posting twice here, or something) various odds-and-ends stuff about the main dialect of Weyr, called Sandic.

Keep an eye out for translations of stuff, musings on the funnier aspects of Wytn(that's the populated continent on the conworld)'s culture, and others.

To start off, check out above: I translated a poem which was used in the LCC2 Conlang Relay.