Carol Nadelyk


GWERSYOW MES A GAROL NADELYK

VERSES FROM A CHRISTMAS CAROL

 

Devydnow dywyêthek mes a’n whedhel ‘Carol Nadelyk’ gans

Bilingual extracts from ‘A Christmas Carol’ by

Charles Dickens


Kernowek © 2016 Ian Jackson



Lymnans / Illustration: Edwin Austin Abbey


Gwers 1 – Marly o marow

Marly o marow, rag dallath. Nyns esa dowt vëth a hedna. Sînys veu covscrif y encledhyans gans an clerek, gans an scrifwas, gans an encledhyor, gans an chif-mùrnyor. Scrûj a’n sînas. Ha dâ o hanow Scrûj ‘wàr Geschaunj’, rag pynag oll may whrella gorra y hanow warnodho. Mar varow avell kenter an daras o Marly Coth.

Verse 1 – Marley was dead

Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it: and Scrooge’s name was good upon ‘Change, for anything he chose to out his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.

 

Gwers 2 – Ny res fors

Ny wrug Scrûj bythqweth paintya hanow Marly Coth dhe ves. Ot an hanow, wosa lies bledhen, a-ugh daras an gwarajy: Scrûj ha Marly. Hanow an gowethas o Scrûj ha Marly. Par termyn y fedha nebonen nowyth dhe’n gowethas ow kelwel Scrûj Scrûj, par termyn Marly, saw ev a wortheby orth an dhew hanow. Ny res dhodho fors.

Verse 2 – It was all the same to Scrooge

Scrooge never painted out Old Marley’s name. There it stood, years afterwards, above the warehouse door: Scrooge and Marley. The firm was known as Scrooge and Marley. Sometimes people new to the business called Scrooge Scrooge, and sometimes Marley, but he answered to both names: it was all the same to him.


Gwers 3 – Leuv dornstroth

Ogh! dar, nyns o va leuv dornstroth orth an vrewliv, Scrûj? Ow qwasca, ow tedna, ow talhedna, ow cravas, ow crabalyas, pehador whansek coth! Cales ha mar sherp avell flynt, na wrug dur tùchya tan brâs anodho bythqweth. Sêcret ha leun ino y honen, ha dygoweth kebmys hag estren. An yêynder ino a rewy y vejeth coth, pynchya y dhewfrik vinak, crihy y vohow, gasa dywethyn y stappys; gwil rudh y lagasow, glas y wessyow tanow; ha dysqwedhes heglew ha sley in y lev rathellek. Yth esa rew oor wàr y bedn, ha wàr an abransow, ha wàr an elgeth gwyvrek hy blew. Degys o y domder isel y honen ganso pùpprës; ow settya clehy wàr y sodhva in dedhyow an ky; heb tedha udn degrê dres Nadelyk.

Verse 3 – A tight-fisted hand

Oh! but he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struck out generous fire; secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster. The cold within him froze his old features, nipped his pointed nose, shrivelled his cheek, stiffened his gait; made his eyes red, his thin lips blue; and spoke out shrewdly in his grating voice. A frosty rime was on his head, and on his eyebrows, and his wiry chin. He carried his own low temperature always about with him; he iced his office in the dog-days; and didn’t thaw it one degree at Christmas.


Gwers 4 – Bòb Crachyt

Udn jëdh i’n termyn eus passys – inter oll an dedhyow dâ i’n vledhen, wàr very Nos an Nadelyk – yth esa Scrûj coth esedhys, ha bysy, in y jy reckna.

Daras chy rekna Scrûj o egerys, rag may halla ev meras in udn jeckya orth y glerek dresto, esa ow copia lytherow in gell dhyflas, kepar ha tank. Yth esa tan pòr vian gans Scrûj, mès tan an klerek o biadnha dres ehen, mayth hevelly bos scant udn côlyn. Saw ny ylly daslenwel an tan, rag yth esa Scrûj ow qwetha box an glow in y rom y honen. Ha peskytter may teffa an klerek ajy gans rev an tan, y fedha y vêster ow targan tell o par hap res dhedha dyberth kescar. Ytho an klerek a wysca adro dh’y godna lien gwydn esa ganso, hag assaya tomhe y honen orth an cantol. Saw drefen nag o awen grev dhodho, heb sowena.

Verse 4 – Bob Cratchit

Once upon a time – of all the good days in the year, on Christmas Eve – old Scrooge sat busy in his counting-house. 

The door of Scrooge’s counting-house was open that he might keep his eye upon his clerk, who in a dismal little cell beyond, a sort of tank, was copying letters. Scrooge had a very small fire, but the clerk’s fire was so very much smaller that it looked like one coal. But he couldn’t replenish it, for Scrooge kept the coal-box in his own room; and so surely as the clerk came in with the shovel, the master predicted that it would be necessary for them to part. Wherefore the clerk put on his white comforter, and tried to warm himself at the candle; in which effort, not being a man of a strong imagination, he failed.


Gwers 5 – Morthol an daras

Scrûj a wrug debry y soper morethek in y davern morethek ûsys. Ha wosa redya pùb paper nowodhow ha passya remenant an gordhuwher gans y lyver arhanty, ev êth tre, dh’y wely. Ev o tregys in set a rômys esa ow longya dh’y gowethyas marow i’n termyn tremenys. Ranjy tewl, in byldyans uhel, godrosek y semlant, in bedn cort, ma nag o rêson an chy unweyth dhe vos ena. Ytho êsy y halla den desmygy tell veu an chy ponyes aberth inhy, pàn o va whath drehevyans yonk, ow qwary toll cudh gans treven erel, hag ankevy an fordh in mes.

Now, in gwrioneth, nyns esa teythy specyal vëth dhe vorthol an daras, marnas ev dhe vos pòr vrâs. Hag in gwrioneth unweyth arta, Scrûj o ûsys dh’y weles, mo ha myttyn, oll an termyn mayth esa va tregys i’n tyller-na. Ha pelha, Scrûj ny’n jeva badna moy a’n pëth yw henwys fancy ès ken onen i’n Cyta Loundres. Dhana gas neb den dhe styrya orta vy, mara calla, fatla veu wharvedhys bos Scrûj, ha’y alwheth in very floren an daras, ow qweles i’n morthol, heb an morthol dhe bassya dre broces vëth a jaunj. Fatla nag o va morthol, mès fâss Marly.

Fâss Marly. Nyns o cudhys in skeus andewanadow, kepar ha’n taclow erel i’n gort skeus’hës, mès in y gerhyn yth esa golow gwadn dhe weles, kepar dell dheffa dhywar legest podrek in selder tewl. Nyns o an fâss-na serrys pò gwyls, mès ow meras orth Scrûj dell o ûsadow Marly meras kyns: gans spectaclys tarosvanus, herdhys in bàn wàr dâl tarosvanus magata. Yth esa y vlew ow qwaya yn coynt, par dell ve hager-anal pò air tebel-dobm orth aga thava. Ha kynth o an lagasow ledan-egerys, heb gwrians vëth ens y. Hedna, ha’y lyw loslas, a’n gwre uthyk. Saw an euth o in spit dhe’n fâss, dell hevelly, hag avês dh’y vêstry, adar bos radn a’y fysmens.

[Scrûj] a wrug alwhedha y honen ajy. Dobyl-alwhedha ajy, ha nyns o hedna y bractys kebmyn. Diogelys indella warbydn sowthan sodyn, ev a wrug dysky y golm codna; gwysca y won chambour ha’y bawgednow, ha’y gappa nos; hag esedha ryb an tan rag debry y yos.

Verse 5 – The knocker on the door

Scrooge took his melancholy dinner in his usual melancholy tavern; and having read all the newspapers, and beguiled the rest of the evening with his banker’s-book, went home to bed. He lived in chambers which had once belonged to his deceased partner. They were a gloomy suite of rooms, in a lowering pile of building up a yard, where it had so little business to be, that one could scarcely help fancying it must have run there when it was a young house, playing at hide-and-seek with other houses, and have forgotten the way out again.

Now, it is a fact, that there was nothing at all particular about the knocker on the door, except that it was very large. It is also a fact, that Scrooge had seen it night and morning during his whole residence in that place; also that Scrooge had as little of what is called fancy about him as any man in the City of London. And then let any man explain to me, if he can, how it happened that Scrooge, having his key in the lock of the door, saw in the knocker, without its undergoing any intermediate process of change: not a knocker, but Marley’s face.

Marley’s face. It was not in impenetrable shadow as the other objects in the yard were, but had a dismal light about it, like a bad lobster in a dark cellar. It was not angry or ferocious, but looked at Scrooge as Marley used to look: with ghostly spectacles turned up upon its ghostly forehead. The hair was curiously stirred, as if by breath or hot-air; and though the eyes were wide-open, they were perfectly motionless. That, and its livid colour, made it horrible; but its horror seemed to be, in spite of the face and beyond its control, rather than a part of its own expression.

[Scrooge] locked himself in; double-locked himself in, which was not his custom. Thus secured against surprise, he took off his cravat; put on his dressing-gown and slippers, and his night-cap; and sat down before the fire to take his gruel.


Gwers 6 – Tarosvan Marly

Y wolok a happyas hedhy wàr glogh, wàr glogh heb y ûsya, cregys i’n rom, hag ow kemunessa, rag neb porpos nakevys soladhëdh, gans chambour in leur ’wartha an byldyans. Meur y varth, ha gans aha reveth heb styrya, ev a welas, pàn esa owth aspia orto, bos an clogh-ma ow tallath lesca. Mar glor y gensa lesk, scant ny wrug son vëth. Saw ev a sowndyas uhel yn scon, ha ganso pùb clogh i’n chy.

Y pêsyas hedna neb hanter-mynysen, pò mynysen, saw dell hevelly th’o our dien. An clegh a wrug hedhy dell wrussons y dallath: oll warbarth. Sewyes ens y gans son clankya, down wàr woles; kepar ha pàn ve nebonen ow traggya chain poos dres an balyers in selder an marchont gwin. Ena y teuth dhe Scrûj cov a glôwes fatla vedha tarosvanow in treven troblys ow traggya chainys in pùb descrevyans.

Egerys veu daras an selder desempys gans tros tarednek. Ena ev a glôwas an son owth encressya, wàr an leuryow ’woles. Ena dhe dhos an stairys in bàn. Ena dhe dhos strait tro ha’y dharas y honen.

“Fyges fug ywa whath!” yn medh Scrûj. “Ny vadnaf y gresy.”

Bytelle, lyw y vejeth a jaunjyas ha’n clankyans ow tos, heb hedhy, der an daras poos, ha passya aberth i’n stevel dhyrag y lagasow. Dell dheuth ajy, flàm an tan, hag ev ow merwel ogasty, a labmas in bàn, kepar ha pàn wrella cria “My a’n aswon! Tarosvan Marly!”, ha codha arta dhe’n dor.

An kethsam fâss. An keth fâss poran. Marly gans y bleth, y grispows dell o ûsys, y lodrow tydn, ha’y votas; ha’n cribellow warnodhans ow sevel reun, kepar ha’y bleth; ha lostednow y gôta kefrës, ha’n blew wàr y bedn. An chain esa ev ow tedna, hèn o kelmys adro dh’y dorr. Chain hir, ha troyllys in y gerhyn kepar ha lost. Ha gwrës (rag Scrûj a’n merkyas yn tywysyk) a voxys mona, alwhedhow, hespow cregys, lyvrow acownt, chartours, ha porsys poos oberys in dur. Boll o an corf. Rag hedna, y hylly Scrûj gweles, orth y whythra hag ow meras der an crispows, an dhew voton wàr an côta dhelergh.

Verse 6 – Marley’s Ghost

His glance happened to rest upon a bell, a disused bell, that hung in the room, and communicated for some purpose now forgotten with a chamber in the highest storey of the building. It was with great astonishment, and with a strange, inexplicable dread, that as he looked, he saw this bell begin to swing. It swung so softly in the outset that it scarcely made a sound; but soon it rang out loudly, and so did every bell in the house.

This might have lasted half a minute, or a minute, but it seemed an hour. The bells ceased as they had begun, together. They were succeeded by a clanking noise, deep down below; as if some person were dragging a heavy chain over the casks in the wine-merchant’s cellar. Scrooge then remembered to have heard that ghosts in haunted houses were described as dragging chains.

The cellar-door flew open with a booming sound, and then he heard the noise much louder, on the floors below; then coming up the stairs; then coming straight towards his door.

“It’s humbug still!” said Scrooge. ”I won’t believe it.”

His colour changed though, when, without a pause, it came on through the heavy door, and passed into the room before his eyes. Upon its coming in, the dying flame leaped up, as though it cried “I know him! Marley’s Ghost!” and fell again.

The same face: the very same. Marley in his pig-tail, usual waistcoat, tights, and boots; the tassels on the latter bristling, like his pigtail, and coat-skirts, and the hair upon his head. The chain he drew was clasped about his middle. It was long, and wound about him like a tail; and it was made (for Scrooge observed it closely) of cash-boxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers, deeds, and heavy purses wrought in steel. His body was transparent: so that Scrooge, observing him, and looking through his waistcoat, could see the two buttons of his coat behind.


Gwers 7 – An gwarnyans

“Yth esof obma haneth rag dha warnya tell eus chauns dhys whath, ha govenek inwedh, dhe dhiank a’m tenkys vy. Chauns ha govenek a wrug avy gwainya ragos, Ebenezer.”

“Ty o coweth dâ dhybm pùpprës,” yn medh Scrûj. “Gromercy dhis!”

“Te a vëdh troblys,” an Tarosvan a bêsyas, “gans Try Spyrys.”

Trèm Scrûj a godhas isel. “Yw hedna an chauns ha’n govenek a wrussys compla, Jacob?” ev a wovydnys, ha’y lev owth hockya.

“Yw.”

“Gw – gwell genama heptha,” yn medh Scrûj.

“Heb aga vysytyans,” yn medh an Tarosvan, “nyns eus dhys govenek vëth goheles an fordh mayth esof vy ow trettya warnedhy. Gwra gortos an kensa avorow, pàn wrella an clogh seny udn eur.”

“A ny allam metya gansans oll warbarth, ha’y worfedna, Jacob?” Scrûj a wrug hyntya.

“Gwra gortos an secùnd Spyrys i’n nessa nos orth an keth eur. An tressa i’n nos a sew pàn vëdh an dewetha strocas a dhewdhek ow cessya daskerna. Na wra gwetyas ow gweles vy namoy. Ha porth in cov, rag kerensa a’th honen, an pëth re wrug derivas dhys.”

Verse 7 – The warning

“I am here to-night to warn you, that you have yet a chance and hope of escaping my fate. A chance and hope of my procuring, Ebenezer.”

“You were always a good friend to me,” said Scrooge. “Thank’ee!”

“You will be haunted,” resumed the Ghost, “by Three Spirits.”

Scrooge’s countenance fell. “Is that the chance and hope you mentioned, Jacob?” he demanded, in a faultering voice.

“It is.”

“I – I think I’d rather not,” said Scrooge.

“Without their visits,” said the Ghost, “you cannot hope to shun the path I tread. Expect the first to-morrow, when the bell tolls one.”

“Couldn’t I take ’em all at once, and have it over, Jacob?” hinted Scrooge.

“Expect the second on the next night at the same hour. The third upon the next night when the last stroke of twelve has ceased to vibrate. Look to see me no more; and look that, for your own sake, you remember what has passed between us!”

 

Gwers 8 – Tarosvan Nadelyk Tremenys

Fygùr coynt o hebma – kepar ha flogh: saw moy hevelep dhe dhen coth, percêvys dre neb main gornaturek, hag ev gans semlant a vos kyldednys mes a wel ogasty, ha lehës bys mayth o flogh y vrâster. Y vlew, cregys adro dh’y godna ha wàr y geyn dhe’n leur, yth o gwydn rag henys dell hevelly. Saw nyns esa crigh vëth wàr y fâss, ha moyha tender o crohen y vejeth.

Scrûj a vedhas govyn pana negys a’n dros dy.

“Dha sowena!” yn medh an Tarosvan.

Scrûj a wrug mencyon dell o va sensys dhodho yn frâs, saw ev ow tyby kefrës tell via nos a bowes heb hy goderry moy fytty dhe’n gosten-na. Res veu an Spyrys dhe glôwes y breder, rag ev a leverys dystowgh:

“Dhana dha reclamacyon. Gwra attendya!”

Ev a istynas dorn crev i’n kettermyn, ha dalhedna Scrûj yn clor er y vregh.

“Gwra sordya! ha kerdhes genef vy!”

Verse 8 – The Ghost of Christmas Past

It was a strange figure – like a child; yet not so like a child as like an old man, viewed through some supernatural medium, which gave him the appearance of having receded from the view, and being diminished to a child’s proportions. Its hair, which hung about its neck and down its back, was white as if with age; and yet the face had not a wrinkle in it, and the tenderest bloom was on the skin.

[Scrooge] made bold to inquire what business brought him there.

“Your welfare!” said the Ghost.

Scrooge expressed himself much obliged, but could not help thinking that a night of unbroken rest would have been more conducive to that end. The Spirit must have heard him thinking for it said immediately:

“Your reclamation, then. Take heed!”

It put out its strong hand as it spoke, and clasped him gently by the arm.

“Rise! and walk with me!”

 

Gwers 9 – Fest furra veu Scrûj

Nyns o ev y honen oll, mès esedhys ryb mowes teg yonk in galarwysk. Yth esa: dagrow in hy lagasow, hag an re-ma ow terlentry i’n golow esa ow shînya in mes a Darosvan Nadelyk Tremenys.

“Ny’th teur ma’s nebes,” yn medh isel hy lev. “Ma’s very nebes dhyso. Ken idol re gemeras ow thyller vy. Ha mar calla hedna ry cher dhys, ha dha gonfortya i’n termyn a dheu, dell vensen vy assaya, nyns eus dhybm chêson a vùrnya.”

“Py Idol a gemeras dha dyller?” ev a wovydnas.

“Onen owrek.”

“Ass yw dyghtyans an bÿs heb faverans!” ev a worthebys. “Nyns eus tra vëth, mayth yw an bÿs moy anwheg orto ès bohosogneth. Ha nyns eus tra vëth, may fydn an bÿs professya condempnacyon orto gans hardygras mar sevur, dell wra ev dampna an helgh a rychys!”

“Re ownek os a’n bÿs,” hy a worthebys, yn whar. “Oll dha wovenek aral re beu kesudnys i’n govenek settya dha honen avês dhe jauns a’y gereth plos. My re welas oll an govenek moy nôbyl dhe godha adenewen, onen hag onen, bys may feusta kethwas dhe’n vêster-bassyon, Gwain. A nyns yw indella?”

“Pandra vern?” ev a worthebys, in udn serry. “Mars êth vy fest furra, pandra vern? Nyns oma chaunjys i’th kever jy.”

Hy a shakyas hy fedn.

Verse 9 – Scrooge had grown so much wiser

He was not alone, but sat by the side of a fair young girl in a mourning-dress: in whose eyes there were tears, which sparkled in the light that shone out of the Ghost of Christmas Past.

“It matters little,” she said, softly. “To you, very little. Another idol has displaced me; and if it can cheer and comfort you in time to come, as I would have tried to do, I have no just cause to grieve.”

“What Idol has displaced you?” he rejoined.

“A golden one.”

“This is the even-handed dealing of the world!” he said. “There is nothing on which it is so hard as poverty; and there is nothing it professes to condemn with such severity as the pursuit of wealth!”

“You fear the world too much,” she answered, gently. “All your other hopes have merged into the hope of being beyond the chance of its sordid reproach. I have seen your nobler aspirations fall off one by one, until the master-passion, Gain, engrosses you. Have I not?”

“What then?” he retorted. “Even if I have grown so much wiser, what then? I am not changed towards you.”

She shook her head.

 

Gwers 10 – Tarosvan Nadelyk Present

Lev astranj a wrug gelwel y hanow, hag erhy dhodho entra. Ev a obeyas.

Stevel Scrûj y honen o. Nyns esa dowt vëth a hedna. Saw an stevel a gafas transformyans, a wrug dhodho plynchya. Wàr an fosow ha’n nen o cregys kebmys glasneth, kelly vew y semlant, mayth esa mor, bryght aga holour, ow shînya in pùb tyller. Yth esa del cras idhyow, uhelvarr, kelyn ow tastewyny an golow, kepar ha pàn ve lies gweder meras bian scùllys adhedro, Hag yth esa tansys ow mos an chymbla in bàn in udn whyfla, dell nag aswonys an olas a rew dyslyw-na bythqweth in bôwnans Scrûj, na bythqweth in bôwnans Marly, nag in lies lies gwâv gyllys passys. Grahellys wàr an leur, ow formya sort a se, yth esa yer gyny, godhow, kig gam, ÿdhyn yonk, cowles kig, kevalsyow brâs, porhelygow, tergh hir a selsyk, pastys brewvoos, pelednow fyges, ester in balyers, kesten tobmrudh, avallow keres-rudh aga bohow, owravallow sùgnek, per saworek, tesednow Stûl cowrek, ha bollys a bùnch berow. Ha'n pùnch ow qwil an stevel nywlek gans êthen dhelycyùs. Sedhys attês wàr an gwely dëdh yth esa Cowr jolyf, glory dhe weles. Yth esa va ow ton fackel spladn, ha’y form kehaval ha corn a Blenteth, hag ev a wrug hy sensy pell a-ughto rag dhenewy hy golow wàr Scrûj, a dheuth ha gîky adro dhe’n daras.

“Deus ajy!” an Tarosvan a grias. “Deus ajy, sos, ha’m aswon dhe well!”

Verse 10 – The Ghost of Christmas Present

A strange voice called him by his name, and bade him enter. He obeyed.

It was his own room. There was no doubt about that. But it had undergone a surprising transformation. The walls and ceiling were so hung with living green, that it looked a perfect grove, from every part of which, bright gleaming berries glistened. The crisp leaves of holly, mistletoe, and ivy reflected back the light, as if so many little mirrors had been scattered there; and such a mighty blaze went roaring up the chimney, as that dull petrification of a hearth had never known in Scrooge’s time, or Marley’s, or for many and many a winter season gone. Heaped up on the floor, to form a kind of throne, were turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn, great joints of meat, sucking-pigs, long wreaths of sausages, mince-pies, plum-puddings, barrels of oysters, red-hot chestnuts, cherry-cheeked apples, juicy oranges, luscious pears, immense twelfth-cakes, and seething bowls of punch, that made the chamber dim with their delicious steam. In easy state upon this couch, there sat a jolly Giant, glorious to see; who bore a glowing torch, in shape not unlike Plenty’s horn, and held it up high, to shed its light on Scrooge, as he came peeping round the door.

“Come in!” exclaimed the Ghost. “Come in! and know me better, man!”

 

Gwers 11 – Tym-Tebmyk

Cowlwrës veu an kydnyow wortyweth, gwakhës lien an bord, scubys an olas, ha byldys an tan. Tastys veu an kemysk i’n podyk ha jùjys dhe vos perfeth, gorrys veu avallow hag owravallow wàr an bord, ha revas a gesten wàr an tan. Ena oll an teylu Crachyt a wrug omgùntell ryb an olas, in maner a vedha Bòb Crachyt orth hy henwel kelgh, ow styrya hanter-kelgh; hag orth elyn Bòb Crachyt y feu settys dysqwedhyans a dhaffar gweder an teylu; dyw wedren, ha hanaf cùstard heb dornla.

Bytegyns, y hylly an re-ma sensy an stoff tobm deverys mes a’n podyk mar dhâ dell alsa goblettys owrek. Ha Bòb a’n radnas in mes, gans minwharth ledan warbarth, ha’n kesten ow trewa hag ow crackya, brâs aga thros. Ena Bòb a wrug profya:

“Nadelyk Lowen dhe ny, a bobel guv. Duw re’gan blessya!”

Ha’n mêny a’n leverys, in udn dhasseny.

“Duw re’gan blessya, pùb huny oll!” yn medh Tym-Tebmyk, yn tewetha.

Yth esa va esedhys fest in nes dh’y das, wàr y scavel vian. Bòb a sensy an dornyk gwedhrys in y leuv y honen, kepar ha pàn ve an flogh kerys dhodho, hag ev whensys dh’y wetha ryptho, rag dowt uthyk ev dhe vos kemerys dhyworto.

“A Spyrys,” yn medh Scrûj, gans bern na glôwas ev kyns, “gwra derivas dhybm. A vëdh Tym-Tebmyk yn few?”

“Yth esof ow qweles chair gwag,” an Tarosvan a worthebys, “in cornel druan ryb an chymbla, ha croch heb perhen, mentênys gans rach. Mars usy an skeusow-ma ow turya heb chaunj i’n Termyn a Dheu, y fëdh an flogh marow.”

“Nâ, nâ,” yn medh Scrûj. “Ogh nâ, Spyrys wheg! lavar ev dhe vos sparys.”

“Mars usy an skeusow-ma ow turya heb chaunj i’n Termyn a Dheu, ny vydn ken spyrys a’m kynda,” an Tarosvan a worthebys, “cafos an flogh obma. Pandra vern? Mar mydn ev merwel, gwell yw dhodho y wil, ha lehe gorlanwes an poblans.”

Scrûj a dhroppyas y bedn, brâs y veth, ow coslowes y eryow y honen, devydnys gans an Spyrys, hag y feu overcùmys dre alar ha dre edrega.

Verse 11 – Tiny Tim

At last the dinner was all done, the cloth was cleared, the hearth swept, and the fire made up. The compound in the jug being tasted, and considered perfect, apples and oranges were put upon the table, and a shovel-ful of chestnuts on the fire. Then all the Cratchit family drew round the hearth, in what Bob Cratchit called a circle, meaning half a one; and, at Bob Cratchit’s elbow stood the family display of glass; two tumblers, and a custard-cup without a handle.

They held the hot stuff from the jug, however, as well as golden goblets would have done; and Bob served it out with beaming looks, while the chestnuts on the fire sputtered and crackled noisily. Then Bob proposed:

“A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us!”

Which all the family re-echoed.

“God bless us every one!” said Tiny Tim, the last of all.

He sat very close to his father’s side, upon his little stool. Bob held his withered little hand in his, as if he loved the child, and wished to keep him by his side, and dreaded that he might be taken from him.

“Spirit,” said Scrooge, with an interest he had never felt before, “tell me if Tiny Tim will live.”

“I see a vacant seat,” replied the Ghost, “in the poor chimney corner, and a crutch without an owner, carefully preserved. If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future, the child will die.”

“No, no,” said Scrooge. “Oh no, kind Spirit! say he will be spared.”

“If these shadows remain unchanged by the Future, none other of my race,” returned the Ghost, “will find him here. What then? If he be like to die, he had better do it, and decrease the surplus population.”

Scrooge hung his head to hear his own words quoted by the Spirit, and was overcome with penitence and grief.

 

Gwers 12 – Tarosvan Nadelyk a Dheu Hogen

An clogh a sonas dewdhek. Kettel cessyas an dewetha strocas daskerna, ev a remembras dargan Jacob Marly coth, ha derevel y lagasow ha gweles Tarosvan sevur, mantel in y gerhyn ha cûgol kefrës, ha’n fygùr ow tos orto, kepar ha nywl, dres an dor.

Yth esa an Tarosvan ow nessa yn lent, yn sad, yn tawesek. Pàn dheuth in ogas, Scrûj êth wàr bedn dêwlin. Rag i’n very air mayth esa an Spyrys-ma ow qwaya dredho, dell hevelly, yth esa va ow scattra kevrîn ha tewolgow.

Ev o cudhys in dyllas dien aga duder, ha’n dyllas ow keles y bedn, y fâss, y form, ma nag o tra vëth gesys dhe weles ma’s udn dorn istynys. Heb hedna, y fia cales dygelmy an fygùr dhyworth an nos, ha’y dhyberth orth an tewlder adhedro.

Scrûj a verkyas dell o an Spyrys hir ha stâtly pàn dheuth ryptho, ha’y bresens kevrînek a’n lenwys der aha solempna. Ny wodhya ev namoy, rag ny wrug an Spyrys na côwsel na gwaya.

“Esoma a wel dhe'n Tarosvan Nadelyk a Dheu Hogen?” yn medh Scrûj.

Ny worthebys an Spyrys, mès ev a boyntyas in rag gans y dhorn.

Verse 12 – The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come

The bell struck twelve. As the last stroke ceased to vibrate, he remembered the prediction of old Jacob Marley, and lifting up his eyes, beheld a solemn Phantom, draped and hooded, coming, like a mist along the ground, towards him.

The Phantom slowly, gravely, silently, approached. When it came near him, Scrooge bent down upon his knee; for in the very air through which this Spirit moved it seemed to scatter gloom and mystery.

It was shrouded in a deep black garment, which concealed its head, its face, its form, and left nothing of it visible save one outstretched hand. But for this it would have been difficult to detach its figure from the night, and separate it from the darkness by which it was surrounded.

He felt that it was tall and stately when it came beside him, and that its mysterious presence filled him with a solemn dread. He knew no more, for the Spirit neither spoke nor moved.

“I am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come?” said Scrooge.

The Spirit answered not, but pointed onward with its hand.

 

Gwers 13 – Scrûj ryb y vedh

Corflan. Ot an le, dhana, mayth esa hedna a’y wroweth in dadn an dor: an den truethek, mayth o res dhodho desky y hanow. Tyller wordhy! Kës gans treven; overdevys gans gwels ha whedn; yth esa mernans a losow, adar bôwnans vëth, ow tevy ena; tegys gans gorfalster encledhyans; tew gans gwalgh a’y ewl lenky. Tyller wordhy!

An Spyrys a savas in mesk an bedhow, ha poyntya orth Onen, dhe’n dor. Scrûj a wrug avauncya tro ha hedna, ha trembla. An Tarosvan o poran dell veu kyns, saw dhe Scrûj yth esa own dre weles styr nowyth i’n shâp solempna.

“Kyns ès my dhe nessa an men, a wreth poyntya orto,” yn medh Scrûj, “gwra gortheby udn qwestyon dhybm. Usy an skeusow-ma ow longya dhe daclow a vëdh in Gwir, pò yns y skeusow a daclow na vëdh ma’s Martesen?”

Stella yth esa an Tarosvan ow poyntya orth an bedh, dhe’n dor, mayth esa va sevys.

“Fordh an dus a wra rag-skeusya hy lower pedn. Ha mars usons y ow pêsya ina, hùmbrynkys vedhons y dy,” yn medh Scrûj. “Saw mars eus den ow tyberth orth an fordh-ma, pedn an fordh a wra chaunjya. Lavar bos indelma, i’n câss dysqwedhys-ma!”

An Spyrys o prest heb gway.

Yth esa Scrûj ow cramyas tro hag ev, ha trembla, hedre ve ow mos. Ev a sewyas an bës istynys ha redya, wàr ven an bedh dysprêsys-na, y hanow y honen: EBENEZER SCRÛJ.

Verse 13 – Scrooge beside his grave

A churchyard. Here, then, the wretched man whose name he had now to learn, lay underneath the ground. It was a worthy place. Walled in by houses; overrun by grass and weeds, the growth of vegetation’s death, not life; choked up with too much burying; fat with repleted appetite. A worthy place!

The Spirit stood among the graves, and pointed down to One. He advanced towards it trembling. The Phantom was exactly as it had been, but he dreaded that he saw new meaning in its solemn shape.

“Before I draw nearer to that stone to which you point,” said Scrooge, “answer me one question. Are these the shadows of the things that Will be, or are they shadows of things that May be, only?”

Still the Ghost pointed downward to the grave by which it stood.

“Men’s courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead,” said Scrooge. “But if the courses be departed from, the ends will change. Say it is thus with what you show me!”

The Spirit was immovable as ever.

Scrooge crept towards it, trembling as he went; and following the finger, read upon the stone of the neglected grave his own name, EBENEZER SCROOGE.

 

Gwers 14 – Ervirys dhe jaunjya

“Spyrys!” a grias ev, ow talhedna i’n vantel yn tydn, “Clôw vy! Nyns oma an keth den dell en vy kyns. Me a vydn sconya bos an den a vien vy sur, mar ny dheffa an metyans-ma. Prag y whrussys showya hebma, mars oma dres pùb govenek oll?”

Kensa prës an dorn, dell hevelly, a wrug crena.

“A Spyrys dâ,” ev a bêsyas, ow codha dhyragtho dhe’n dor. “Dha nas a vydn pesy a’m govys, ha kemeres trueth ahanaf. Gwra ow surhe vy, fatell allaf vy chaunjya, dre vôwnans amendys, an skeusow re wrussys showya!”

An dorn cuv a wrug crena.

“My a wra enora Nadelyk i’m colon, ha whelas y sensy dres oll an vledhen. My a wra bewa i’n termyn Passys, Present, hag i’n termyn a Dheu. Spyryjyon pùbonen an Try a wra strîvya ina vy. An dyscas usons y ow tesky dhybm, ny wrama degea in mes. Agh, gwra leverel y hallaf golhy an scrif usy wàr an men in kerdh!”

Verse 14 – Determined to change

“Spirit!” he cried, tight clutching at its robe, “hear me! I am not the man I was. I will not be the man I must have been but for this intercourse. Why show me this, if I am past all hope?”

For the first time the hand appeared to shake.

“Good Spirit,” he pursued, as down upon the ground he fell before it: “Your nature intercedes for me, and pities me. Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me, by an altered life!”

The kind hand trembled.

“I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. Oh, tell me I may sponge away the writing on this stone!”

 

Gwers 15 - An gorfen anodho

Gwell o Scrûj ages y eryow. Ev a’n gwrug, pùptra oll, ha moy heb dhyweth. Ha dhe Tym-Tebmyk, ha NA veu marow, ev o secùnd tas. Y feu va cothman mar dhâ, mêster mar dhâ, ha den mar dhâ dell esa an cyta goth dhâ owth aswon bythqweth. Yth esa lower den ow wherthyn pàn welsons y an chaunj ino, saw ev a’s gasas dhe wherthyn, ha gwil scant attendya. Rag fur lowr o va dhe gonvedhes na wharva tra vëth in oll an bÿs-ma bythqweth, abarth an dâ, ma na whrug neb collenwel y ewl wherthyn anodho orth an dallath. Ha dre rêson ev dhe wodhvos bos pobel a’n par-na dall wàr neb cor, gwell o dhedhans, dh’y vreus, crihy gà lagasow in minwharth ès sùffra an dysês in formys le dynyak. Yth esa y golon y honen ow wherthyn, Ha hèn o fest lowr dhodho.

Nyns esa ken metyans inter ev ha Spyryjyon. Ha prest a’y wosa, yth o whedhlys anodho tell wodhya golya Nadelyk yn tâ, kebmys dell eus skentoleth tùchyng hedna dhe neb den i’n bÿs. Re bo gwir an keth lavar ragon ny, heb nam! Ytho, dell wrug Tym-Tebmyk y verkya, Duw Re’gan Blessya, Pùb Huny Oll!

Verse 15 – The end of it

Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all, and infinitely more; and to Tiny Tim, who did NOT die, he was a second father. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man, as the good old city knew. Some people laughed to see the alteration in him, but he let them laugh, and little heeded them; for he was wise enough to know that nothing ever happened on this globe, for good, at which some people did not have their fill of laughter in the outset; and knowing that such as these would be blind anyway, he thought it quite as well that they should wrinkle up their eyes in grins, as have the malady in less attractive forms. His own heart laughed: and that was quite enough for him.

He had no further intercourse with Spirits; and it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God bless Us, Every One!

 

Kernowek Kevardhu 2016, amendys Est 2020