Kaltxì nìmun, ma eylan!
It’s been quite a while, I know. Takrra postì asok frato solalängew txana krr. I’ve had a lot of distractions recently, some good, some bad. But things are settling down, and I hope to post some useful new vocabulary before the year is out. This brief post is a start.
Thanks, as always, to the LEP contributors for their creativity. Some of the words below derive from their suggestions.
zum (n.) ‘object, thing (physical or tangible)’
We already have the familiar word ’u, of course, which means ‘thing’ in a number of different senses: a physical object, a fact, or an abstraction. So ’u can refer to a rock, or to bravery, or to the fact that Jake loves Neytiri. In contrast, zum is exclusively a physical or tangible object—something you can see or feel.
A. Fayzum lu peu?
‘What are these things?’
B. Ke omum, slä rä’ä tìng zekwä! Lam lehrrap.
‘I don’t know, but don’t touch them! They look dangerous.’
hìpey (vin., HÌ.pey—inf. 2,2) ‘hesitate, hold back for a short time’
This verb derives from hì’i ‘small’ + pey ‘wait.’ It differs from fpak in that fpak refers to suspending an action that’s already in progress, while hìpey is deferring the start of an action.
Hìpey taronyu, hifwo yerik.
‘The hunter hesitates and the hexapede escapes.’
(Proverbial expression. Cf.: “He who hesitates is lost.”)
Note the syntax for ‘hesitate to do something.’ Also note that as in English, hìpey can imply a reluctance to begin or accomplish an action, for whatever reason.
Furia peng fmawnit Eytukanur po hìpoley.
He hesitated to tell Eytukan the news.
Derivations:
tìhìpey (n., tì.HÌ.pey) ‘hesitation’
Tìhìpey tsun krro krro lesar livu.
‘Hesitation can sometimes be useful.’
Sar tsalìʼut a fìʼuri lu oeru tìhìpey nìʼit.
‘I’m a bit hesitant about using that word.’
lehìpey (adj., le.HÌ.pey) ‘hesitant, in a state of hesitation’
Taronyul lehìpey kan smarit nìlkeftang slä ke takuk kawkrr.
‘A hesitant hunter will aim at a prey forever but never hit it.’
nìhìpey (adv., nì.HÌ.pey) ‘hesitantly’
snäm (vin.) ‘rot, decay, degrade over time’
Snäm can refer both to the physical decaying of an object—say, a piece of meat—and also to the degrading of something abstract, like a skill.
Fìtsnganur a snoläm längu fahew akxänäng.
‘This rotten meat has a putrid smell.’
Zene fko tsko swizawit sivar nìtrrtrr fteke fìtsu’o sniväm.
‘One must use a bow and arrow regularly to prevent this ability degrading over time.’
kllrikx (n., kll.RIKX) ‘earthquake’
Txewì plltxe san kllrikx txewm lamu sìk.
‘Txewì says that the earthquake was frightening.’
A couple of derivations of latem ‘change’:
sälatem (n., sä.LA.tem) ‘change (instance of), edit, modification’
’Onìri tskoä lu tìkin sälatemä ahì’i.
‘The form of the bow requires a small change.’
tìlatem (n., tì.LA.tem) ‘change (abstract concept)’
Pxaya suteri, tìlatem lu ngäzìk.
‘For many people, change is difficult.’
txatx (n.) ‘bubble’
Yosìn kilvanä lu tatx.
‘There are bubbles on the surface of the river.’
Finally, I never provided the text and translation for the little listening exercise in the last post. Here they are:
Kaltxì, ma eylan. Sìlpey oe, ayngaru livu fpom nìwotx.
Narmew oe piveng ayngar teri mehapxìtu amip soaiä Tsyanä sì oeyä. Lu hì’ia mefalukantsyìp a syaw fko mefor Palu sì Lukan. Mefo lu tsmukan sì tsmuke. Fpìl oel futa tsun aynga tslivam teyngta tsamestxo za’u ftu pesim. Lu law, kefyak?
Lukan (alu tsmukantsyìp) sì Palu (alu tsmuketsyìp) mi lu prrnen, ulte leiu lor sì hona nìtxan. Slä längu kop nim, stum loreyu ’awnampi. Polähem ne kelku moeyä txonam, ulte kezemplltxe fìtsenge amip sì mesutan amip nìteng lu meforu stxong nìtxan nì’aw. Fitrr mì tampxì krrä wäperan. Sìlpey moe tsnì slìyevu ye’rìn tstew fìtxan kuma tsun wrrziva’u uvan sivi moehu. Fwa ’efu mawey sì nitram mì pawngip amip krrnekx, ha moe zene maweypivey.
Hayalovay, ma smuk.
Hello, friends. I hope you’re all well.
I wanted to tell you about two new members of John’s and my family. They’re two little cats named Palu and Lukan. They’re brother and sister. I think you can understand what source those two names come from. It’s clear, isn’t it?
Lukan, the little brother, and Palu, the little sister, are still babies, and I’m happy to say they’re very beautiful and cute. But unfortunately they’re also shy, almost like a touched helicoradian. They arrived at our house last night, and needless to say the new place and likewise the two new men are very strange to them. For most of the time today they were hiding. We hope they’ll soon become brave enough to come out and play with us. Feeling calm and happy in a new environment takes time, so we have to be patient.
Until next time, brothers and sisters.
Mìftxele, I’m pleased to say that Palu is now much less shy than she used to be, and Lukan is bold and fearless! They’re both doing beautifully and are very happy to accept all the love we’re bestowing on them. Here they are. (Lukan, the male, is the one with white between his eyes; Palu, the female, has black in the same place.)
More soon! Hayalovay!
