Showing posts with label language. Show all posts
Showing posts with label language. Show all posts
26 January 2011
Talking with Plato?
This is the sort of thing I find utterly fascinating. Greek-speaking Muslims continue to live in the Turkish Pontos speaking a dialect of ρωμαίϊκα, a language with grammatical structures retained from classical Greek. Listen as well to the distinctive Pontic music in the background. Incidentally, ρωμαιϊκά means Roman, which harks back to the time when Orthodox Christians living in the Eastern Roman Empire called themselves Ρωμαίοι, or Romans.
28 June 2007
07 December 2003
The Psalms in Scots
As heirs of the Calvinist Reformation under John Knox, the Scots have been singing metrical psalms since the 16th century, and most notably since the publication of the Scottish Psalter of 1650. But these psalms were rendered in the standard English of the day. In the 20th century a prose translation of the Psalms was made in the Scots tongue, famously used in the poetry of Robert Burns. Here is the well-known 23rd Psalm translated into Scots:
As heirs of the Calvinist Reformation under John Knox, the Scots have been singing metrical psalms since the 16th century, and most notably since the publication of the Scottish Psalter of 1650. But these psalms were rendered in the standard English of the day. In the 20th century a prose translation of the Psalms was made in the Scots tongue, famously used in the poetry of Robert Burns. Here is the well-known 23rd Psalm translated into Scots:
Psalm XXIII.
The sheep-keepin o' the LORD's kind an' canny, wi' a braw howff at lang last: David keeps his sheep; the LORD keeps David.
Ane heigh-lilt o' David's.
THE LORD is my herd, nae want sal fa' me:
2 He louts me till lie amang green howes; he airts me atowre by the lown watirs:
3 He waukens my wa'-gaen saul; he weises me roun, for his ain name's sake, intil right roddins.
4 Na! tho' I gang thro' the deadmirk-dail; e'en thar, sal I dread nae skaithin: for yersel are nar-by me; yer stok an' yer stay haud me baith fu' cheerie.
5 My buird ye hae hansell'd in face o' my faes; ye hae drookit my head wi' oyle; my bicker is fu' an' skailin.
6 E'en sae, sal gude-guidin an' gude-gree gang wi' me, ilk day o' my livin; an' evir mair syne, i' the LORD'S ain howff, at lang last, sal I mak bydan.
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