Praised be Jesus Christ (laudât seial Jesù Crist). Following the assassination of Charlie Kirk (daspò dal sassinament di Charlie Kirk), numerous people seem to be on the cusp of finding Christ (cetantis personis a somein jessi in ande di cjatâ Crist). Some of them have said that they want to believe in God (cualchidun di lôr al à dit che al vûl crodi in Diu), but that they don't know what they have to do in order to believe (ma che nol rive a capî ce che al à di fâ par podê crodi). If I had the opportunity to speak with them (se o ves la oportunitât di fevelâ cun lôr), I would tell them that this interior impulse of theirs (ur disarès che chest lôr impuls interiôr) is like a glimmer of light that has entered them (al è come une spere di lûs che e je jentrade dentri di lôr). If also you find yourself in this situation (se ancje tu tu ti cjatis in cheste situazion), what you can do now is easy but very important (ce che tu puedis fâ cumò al è facil ma une vore impuartant): pray God for faith in him (preâ Diu par vê fede in lui), even if you don't yet believe (ancje se no tu crodis ancjemò). A simple but direct prayer that you can pray every so often (une preiere semplice ma direte che tu puedis preâ ogni tant), secretly or even aloud (in segret o ancje a vôs): "God, increase my faith" («Diu, fâs cressi la mê fede»); or (o ben): "God, help my unbelief" («Diu, jude la mê pocje fede»).
Laudât seial Jesù Crist. Daspò dal sassinament di Charlie Kirk, cetantis personis a somein jessi in ande di cjatâ Crist. Cualchidun di lôr al à dit che al vûl crodi in Diu, ma che nol rive a capî ce che al à di fâ par podê crodi. Se o ves la oportunitât di fevelâ cun lôr, ur disarès che chest lôr impuls interiôr al è come une spere di lûs che e je jentrade dentri di lôr. Se ancje tu tu ti cjatis in cheste situazion, ce che tu puedis fâ cumò al è facil ma une vore impuartant: preâ Diu par vê fede in lui, ancje se no tu crodis ancjemò. Une preiere semplice ma direte che tu puedis preâ ogni tant, in segret o ancje a vôs: «Diu, fâs cressi la mê fede»; o ben: «Diu, jude la mê pocje fede».
In this lesson (in cheste lezion), you will listen to the reading of a paragraph (tu scoltarâs la leture di un paragraf) taken from the book Uchì (gjavât fûr dal libri Uchì) by Alberto Luchini (di Alberto Luchini). Luchini uses the Friulian of Dograva (Luchini al dopre il furlan di Dograva), but you will listen to his words also according to the standard language (ma tu scoltarâs lis sôs peraulis ancje daûr de lenghe comune).
1. Using the Friulian of Dograva (doprant il furlan di Dograva), Luchini writes (Luchini al scrîf):
Sentât su la puarta dal garâs ch’a mena tal ort, il veçu al lei il giornâl, ch’a lu lassin in pâs dome parsè ch’a no san dulà ch’al è. Nol è ch’al çati alc ch’a j interessi, lu fa dome parsè ch’al è bituât. Nol rivarès a misdì sensa vêlu let. Ogni dì, ença di domenia, ch’a lu taca dopo messa e lu finìs tal dopomisdì.
Sitting at the garage door that leads to the garden, the old man reads the newspaper, whom they leave alone only because they don’t know where he is. It’s not that he finds something that interests him; he does it just because he’s used to it. He wouldn’t make it to noon without having read it. Every day, even on Sundays, when he starts it after Mass and finishes it in the afternoon.
Un veçu ch’al lei il giornâl:
2. And now according to the standard language (e cumò daûr de lenghe comune):
Sentât su la puarte dal garage che al mene tal ort, il vecjo al lei il
gjornâl, che lu lassin in pâs dome parcè che no san dulà che al è. Nol è
che al cjati alc che i interessi, lu fâs dome parcè che al è abituât.
Nol rivarès a misdì cence vêlu let. Ogni dì, ancje di domenie, che lu
tache dopo messe e lu finìs tal dopomisdì.
First reading (prime leture): Dograva Second reading (seconde leture): standard
Se il mont us odee, o vês di savê che prin di vualtris mi à odeât me. Se o fossis dal mont, il mont i volarès ben a ce che al è so. Invezit pal fat che vualtris no sês dal mont, ma jo us ài sielzûts dal mont, il mont us odee. Visaitsi de peraule che us ài dite: Nissun servidôr nol è plui grant dal so paron. Se mi àn perseguitât me, us perseguitaran ancje vualtris. Se a àn metude in pratiche la mê peraule, a metaran in pratiche ancje la vuestre. Ma us fasaran a vualtris dutis chestis robis par colpe dal gno non, parcè che no cognossin chel che mi à mandât.
Zuan XV,18-21
laudât seial Jesù Crist: praised be Jesus Christ / Crist al disè: Christ said / se il mont us odee: if the world hate you / o vês di savê che prin di vualtris mi à odeât me: you must know that before you it hated me / se o fossis dal mont: if you were of the world / il mont i volarès ben a ce che al è so: the world would love what is its own / invezit pal fat che vualtris no sês dal mont: but because you are not of the world / ma jo us ài sielzûts dal mont: but I have chosen you out of the world / il mont us odee: the world hateth you / visaitsi de peraule che us ài dite: remember the word that I have said to you / nissun servidôr nol è plui grant dal so paron: no servant is greater than his master / se mi àn perseguitât me: if they have persecuted me / us perseguitaran ancje vualtris: they will persecute also you / se a àn metude in pratiche la mê peraule: if they have put into practice my word / a metaran in pratiche ancje la vuestre: they will put into practice also yours / ma us fasaran a vualtris dutis chestis robis par colpe dal gno non: but all these things they will do to you for the sake of my name / parcè che no cognossin chel che mi à mandât: because they know not him who sent me.
Chest al è il gno comandament: che si voledis ben un cul altri, come che jo us ài volût ben a vualtris. Nissun nol à un afiet plui grant di chel che al da vie la sô vite pai siei amîs.
Zuan XV,12-13
laudât seial Jesù Crist: praised be Jesus Christ / Crist al disè: Christ said / chest al è il gno comandament: this is my commandment / che si voledis ben un cul altri: that you love one another / come che jo us ài volût ben a vualtris: as I have loved you / nissun nol à un afiet plui grant: no man hath a greater love / di chel che al da vie la sô vite: than he who layeth down his life / pai siei amîs: for his friends.
In Pordenon (a Pordenon), as the owners of a house (intant che i parons di cjase) were busy grocery shopping (a jerin a fâ la spese), robbers forced the window (i laris a àn sfuarçât il barcon) and stole a gold watch (e a àn puartât vie un orloi di aur). When the owners got back home (cuant che i parons a son tornâts a cjase), they found everything upsidedown (a àn cjatât dut sotsore). / Riferiment: La Vôs dai Furlans.
Une cjamare dute sotsore:
Un paron: an owner, master. Examples: the owner of the car (il paron de machine); un paron di cjase (a house owner); il paron dal cjan (the dog's master). Paron is pronounced with stress on the final syllable: paròn.
Fâ la spese: to do the grocery shopping. Examples: I am going grocery shopping (o voi a fâ la spese); she has gone grocery shopping (e je lade a fâ la spese).
Sfuarçâ: to force. Examples: the thief forced the bike lock (il lari al à sfuarçât il lochet de bici); robbers forced the window (i laris a àn sfuarçât il barcon). Barcon is pronounced with stress on the final syllable: barcòn.
Un orloi: a watch. Examples: my watch is slow (il gno orloi al è indaûr); I have to wind the watch every so often (o ài di tirâ sù l'orloi ogni tant); the thieves stole a valuable watch (i laris a àn puartât vie un orloi di valôr).
Puartâ vie: literally, to take away; but also: to steal. Examples: the officers took the robber away (i agjents a àn puartât vie il lari); robbers have stolen a valuable painting (i laris a àn puartât vie un cuadri di valôr); cancer took him away in eight months (il cancar lu à puartât vie in vot mês). Cancar is pronounced with stress on the first syllable: càncar.
Sotsore: literally, upsidedown; but also: messy. Examples: the photo was framed upsidedown (la foto e je stade incurnisade sotsore); une cjamare dute sotsore, une stanzie dute sotsore (a very messy room). Both cjamare and stanzie are pronounced with stress on the first syllable: cjàmare, stànzie. Cjamare typically identifies a bedroom, whereas stanzie is broader and can identify any room. For bedroom, we can also say: cjamare di durmî. Sotsore = par aiar (literally, in the air). Example: after having scattered everything in the room, the robbers found a valuable watch (dopo di vê butât dut par aiar inte cjamare, i laris a àn cjatât un orloi di valôr). Another example: to turn the house upsidedown (butâ sotsore la cjase, butâ par aiar la cjase).
Read in Friulian:
Intant che i parons di cjase a jerin a fâ la spese, i laris a àn sfuarçât il barcon par podê jentrâ inte cjase. Dopo di vê butât dut par aiar intune cjamare, i laris a àn puartât vie un orloi di valôr. Cuant che i parons a son tornâts a cjase, a àn cjatât dut sotsore.
In the videoclip below (tal filmât chi sot), a young lector reads a chapter of the Bible (un zovin letôr al lei un cjapitul de Bibie), but we will examine just one of the verses (ma o esaminarìn dome un dai versets), the one that he reads at the third minute (chel che al lei al tierç minût):
T 3.00
Tu varâs malatiis orendis, un mâl tai intestins che ti fasarà saltâ fûr i budiei tal zîr di doi agns. / II Cronichis XXI,15.
Thou shalt have (tu varâs) dreadful illnesses (malatiis orendis), an ailment in the intestines (un mâl tai intestins) that shall make your bowels come out (che ti fasarà saltâ fûr i budiei) in the space of two years (tal zîr di doi agns).
Une malatie: a malady, illness, sickness, ailment. This word has four syllables, with tonic stress pronounced on the second-to-last: ma | la | tì | e.
Orent: horrendous, dreadful, terrible, horrible. The four forms of this adjective are: orent (masculine singular); orents (masculine plural); orende (feminine singular); orendis (feminine plural).
Un intestin: an intestine. This word has three syllables, with tonic stress falling on the last: in | tes | tìn.
Un mâl: a malady, illness, sickness, ailment. In the plural: i mâi.
Un budiel: a bowel, a gut. Tonic stress is on the final syllable: bu | dièl. In the plural: i budiei. For example, to speak of gutting a chicken, use: gjavâi i budiei al poleç; literally, to remove the guts {from} unto the chicken.
Saltâ fûr: to come out. Fâ saltâ fûr: to make to come out, to cause to come out. Ti fasarà saltâ fûr i budiei: literally, it will make the bowels come out {from} unto thee. The Friulian wording is not formal; it is equivalent to: it will make your bowels come out, of modern English.
Un an: a year. In the plural: i agns. To pronounce agns, first say this English word: I. Pronounce it slowly, and you will hear that it sounds like ah-ee. In Friulian, this ah-ee sound is written ai. Now attach the sound of nts to this ai, so that we have what sounds like aints.
Un zîr: a circuit, a round, a cycle. Tal zîr di doi agns: in the space of two years. We hear the lector pronounce zîr similarly to the English word jeer, but with the Friulian trilled r. You can repeat after the lector to pronounce tal zîr di doi agns.
In the Friulian language (in lenghe furlane), the word dongje means (la peraule dongje e vûl dî): by, beside, alongside, next to. For example (par esempli), we have read that a young cyclist (o vin let che un zovin ciclist) fell into a canal by the road (al è colât intun canâl dongje de strade), after having been struck by a hit-and-run driver (dopo di jessi stât pocât di un pirate de strade).
Using the word dongje (doprant la peraule dongje), we can also say in Friulian (o podìn ancje dî par furlan): I was walking alongside him (i cjaminave dongje); he made me go next to him (mi à fat lâ dongje di lui); il canâl al cor dongje de strade (the canal runs next to the road); he slipped beside a stream (al è sbrissât dongje di un torint); I left the wet towel by the fire (o ài lassât il suieman bagnât dongje dal fûc) and so on (e cussì vie).
In the standard language (te lenghe comune), the pronunciation of this word is (la pronunzie di cheste peruale e je): dongje. In the videoclip below (tal filmât chi sot), the lector uses this pronunciation at minute 0.28 and at minute 2.27 (il letôr al dopre cheste pronunzie al minût 0.28 e al minût 2.27); however (ma però), not all Friulians say this word like that (no ducj i furlans a disin cussì cheste peraule). At minute 2.41 (al minût 2.41), this same lector uses another pronunciation (chest stes letôr al dopre une altre pronunzie): dongie. It would appear (al somearès) that this lector’s usual pronunciation (che la pronunzie abituâl di chest letôr) is that of (e sedi chê di): dongie.
A third pronunciation of the word is possible (une tierce pronunzie de peraule e je pussibile): dongia. For example (par esempli), using the Friulian of Dograva (doprant il furlan di Dograva), we can say (o podìn dî): i ài lassât il suiaman bagnât dongia dal fôc, which means (che al vûl dî): I left the wet towel by the fire.
All the variants (dutis lis variantis) that we read below (che o leìn chi sot) are possible in the Friulian language (a son pussibilis in lenghe furlane):
o ài lassât / i ài lassât il suieman bagnât / il suiaman bagnât dongje / dongie / dongia dal fûc / dal fôc
To tell the truth (par dî il vêr), another possibility is (une altre pussibilitât) is that of saying (e je chê di dî): dongjo. For example (par esempli), they speak like that at For Davuatri (a fevelin cussì a For Davuatri), in Carnia (in Cjargne). But that’s enough for now (ma per cumò vonde cussì), let’s stop there (fermìnsi culì)!
--
Final remark: What is described above falls under the broader theme of the pronunciation of gj in Friulian, or the absence thereof in certain variants: it is not only the word dongje that is affected. Take for example the feminine noun gjambe (leg). A Friulian who says dongje will also say gjambe; but if he says dongie, then he will say giambe; and if he says dongia, then he will say giamba; and if he says dongjo, then he will say gjambo. We sometimes hear unexpected variation in a lector’s pronunciation during the readings of the Bible; this is due to hesitation on the part of the lector between (a) using his native pronunciation or (b) spontaneously but inconsistently modifying his pronunciation to align with the standard spelling used in the text from which he is reading.
Yesterday we read (îr o vin let) about the despicable behaviour (dal compuartament ignobil) of a hit-and-run driver (di un pirate de strade) in Bevaçane di Lignan (a Bevaçane di Lignan) who ran into a young cyclist (che al à pocât un zovin ciclist).
Due to having hit him from behind (par vie di vêlu cjapât daûr), the car sent the young man flying (la machine al à fat svolâ il zovin) into the canal alongside the road (intal canâl dongje de strade). The driver did not help the young man (il vuidadôr nol à judât il zovin), but (ma), before hightailing it out of there (prin di scjampâ a ruede lavade), he made sure to pull off the young man’s bike (al à viodût di tirâ vie la bici dal zovin) which had got stuck to the car’s bumper (che e jere restade incjastrade intal parecolps de machine).
Good news (buine notizie): the hit-and-run driver has been caught (il pirate al è stât cjapât). A witness helped law enforcement (un testemoni al à judât lis fuarcis dal ordin) to identify the driver (a identificâ il vuidadôr), and video footage from cameras (e i filmâts des telecjamaris) had picked up the number plate of the car (a vevin cjapât sù il numar di targhe de machine). The hit-and-run driver is a sixty-three year old man (il pirate al è un om di sessantetrê agns). / Riferiment: La Vôs dai Furlans.
Un pirate de strade al è un automobilist che no si ferme a judâ daspò di vê fat un incident stradâl. Chi sot o viodìn un om che al è stât cjapât sot di un pirate. Al è stât ferît in maniere grave.
Un zovin: a lad, a young man. As has been mentioned elsewhere, Friulians do not all pronounce the letter z in the same way. For some, it sounds like English j, whereas for others it sounds like English z. Moreover, the word zovin ends in the sound of ŋ, which is the sound heard in English words such as hang, ring, long, nothing and so on. This means that, using approximated English spellings, zovin is pronounced either jòving or zòving.
In the variant of Friulian spoken at Dograva, the sound of English z is used in zovin. At Dograva, we can say: il zovin al è colât ta un canâl dongia da la strada, which means: the young man fell into a canal beside the road. In the standard language, we should rather have: il zovin al è colât intun canâl dongje de strade, where zovin may take either the sound of English j or English z, depending on the speaker. Note also the difference between dongje (standard) and dongia (Dograva). The Dograva form dongia takes the sound of English j.
The notes above about the pronunciation of z do not apply to the -zion ending. The z here sounds either like ts or ss. For example, the feminine nouns stazion and informazion, which mean station and information, are pronounced by some speakers as statsiòn and informatsiòn, and by others as stassiòn and informassiòn. These latter pronunciations are what we hear at Dograva.
Restâ incjastrât: to get stuck. We can say: la bici e je restade incjastrade intal parecolps, which means: the bike got stuck to the bumper; and we can also say: la bici e je restade incjastrade sul denant de machine, which means: the bike got stuck to the front of the car. Whereas the feminine noun biciclete means bicycle, the shortened form bici is also used, and aligns with English bike. An example: doi zovins in bicicleta (two lads on bicycles); doi zovins in bici (two lads on bikes).
Another cyclist (un altri ciclist) has been struck by a car (al è stât tamponât di une machine). Last time (la ultime volte), the cyclist was an elderly man of eighty-eight years of age (il ciclist al jere un vieli di otantevot agns); he died on account of his injuries (al è muart par vie des feridis). This time (cheste volte), the cyclist is a young man (il ciclist al è un zovin) of twenty-one years of age (di vincjeun agns). Here is what happened (ve ce che al è sucedût):
In Bevaçane di Lignan (a Bevaçane di Lignan), a young man was riding along a road (un zovin al stave lant dilunc di une strade) next to a canal (dongje di un canâl). A car hit him from behind (une machine lu à cjapât daûr). The car struck him so violently (la machine lu à pocât cussì fuart) that he fell into the canal (che al è colât intal canâl), and the bicycle got stuck to the bumper of the car (e la biciclete e je restade incjastrade intal parecolps de machine). The driver pulled it off the bumper (il vuidadôr le à tirade vie dal parecolps) and then took off (e po si è slontanât) without even helping the young man (cence nancje judâ il zovin)!
On the left, the road (a çampe, la strade); on the right, the canal (a drete, il canâl):
A gentleman who was passing by (un siôr che al passave di chês bandis) raised the alarm (al à dât l’alarme): the firemen arrived (a son rivâts i pompîrs), and they got the young man out of the water (e a àn puartât fûr de aghe il zovin), who was taken to hospital by helicopter (che al è stât puartât in ospedâl cul elicotar).
Law enforcement (lis fuarcis dal ordin) are looking for the hit-and-run driver (a stan cirint il pirate de strade). / Riferiment: La Vôs dai Furlans.
Tamponâ, pocâ: to strike, to hit. Examples: the cyclist was struck from behind (il ciclist al è stât pocât daûr); the driver hit a van (il vuidadôr al à tamponât un furgon); trê machinis si son tamponadis (three cars ran into each other); according to road rules, whoever hits from behind pays for damages (daûr dal codiç de strade cui che al poche daûr al paie i dams). Related: lâ a sbati. Examples: the driver crashed into a pole (il vuidadôr al è lât a sbati cuintri di un pâl); the car hit a tree (la machine e je lade a sbati cuintri di un arbul).
Un pirate (de strade): a hit-and-run driver. Examples: the hit-and-run driver has not been identified (il pirate de strade nol è stât identificât); the hit-and-run driver ran over a pedestrian (il pirate al à tirât sot un pedon); the elderly man was run over by a hit-and-run driver (il vieli al è stât cjapât sot di un pirate).
On the first of September (al prin di Setembar), in Purcie (a Purcie), an elderly man of eighty-eight years of age (un vieli di otantevot agns) was out riding his bicycle (al faseve un zîr in biciclete).
A few metres away from his home (a pôcs metris di cjase sô), he was struck head on (al è stât cjapât in plen) by a car (di une machine). The woman who ran him over (la femine che lu à cjapât sot) said that she had not seen him (e à dit di no vêlu viodût).
Emergency department admission (acetazion dal pront socors):
The helicopter came to rescue the elderly man (al è rivât l’elicotar par socori il vieli), but because of the bad weather (ma par vie dal maltimp), it could not land without difficulty (nol à podût cjapâ tiere cence dificoltât). The man died (l’om al è muart) in Pordenon hospital (tal ospedâl di Pordenon). / Riferiment: La Vôs dai Furlans.
Un zîr: a circuit, a round, a cycle. Examples: I went for a bike ride (o ài fat un zîr in bici); we went for a stroll through the city centre (o vin fat un zîr pal centri); I visited all the shops to find these shoes (o ài fat il zîr des buteghis par cirî chestis scarpis); the second stage of the Giro d’Italia (la seconde tape dal Zîr di Italie); tal zîr di vot dîs (in the space of eight days).
In the older version of the Bible in Friulian, zîr (sounds like English jeer for some Friulians or like English zeer for others) was spelt gîr (sounds like English jeer), reflecting the translators’ pronunciation preference. In the newer version of the Bible, the spelling is changed to zîr throughout, which can take either pronunciation, given that Friulian z is pronounced by some Friulians like an English j and by others like an English z. As for the -zion ending, the z is pronounced by some Friulians like ts and by others like ss.
A few days ago (cualchi dì indaûr), we read together (o vin let insiemi) a verse drawn from the gospel of Matthew (un verset gjavât fûr dal vanzeli di Matieu) in the Friulian language (in lenghe furlane). This verse (chest verset) was verse fourteen (al jere il verset cutuardis) of the fifth chapter (dal cuint cjapitul), where Christ says (dulà che Crist al dîs): “You are the light of the world (vualtris o sês la lûs dal mont); a city set upon a mount (une citât metude suntune mont) cannot remain hidden (no pò restâ platade).”
Verset tredis - T 1.15 Verset cutuardis - T 1.28
Let’s listen together (scoltìn insiemi) also to the preceding verse (ancje il verset prin), which is verse thirteen (che al è il verset tredis), where Christ says (dulà che Crist al dîs): “You are the salt of the earth (vualtris o sês il sâl de tiere); but if the salt becomes tasteless (ma se il sâl al devente lami), wherewith shall one salt (cun ce si varaial di salâ)? It will no longer be good for anything (nol sarà plui bon par nuie), except to be thrown out (dome di jessi butât vie) and trampled upon by people (e tibiât de int).”
If a thing is insipid (se une robe e je lamie), then that thing has no flavour (alore chê robe no à savôr). For instance (par esempli), if a broth has no flavour (se un brût nol à savôr), the broth is tasteless (il brût al è lami). We can also use this word (o podìn ancje doprâ cheste peraule) in a figurative way (in maniere figurative). For instance (par esempli), a newspaper article devoid of interest is insipid (un articul di gjornâl cence interès al è lami); and a person devoid of personality is also insipid (e une persone cence personalitât e je lamie ancje jê). If a punishment lacks strength (se une punizion no à fuarce), then that punishment is soft (alore chê punizion e je lamie).
articul lami articui lamis
punizion lamie punizions lamiis
Verses thirteen and fourteen (i versets tredis e cutuardis) form part of the sermon on mount (a formin part dal discors de mont), which was delivered by Christ on a hill (discors fat di Crist suntun çuc).
Two days ago (doi dîs indaûr), a young man of twenty years of age (un zovin di vincj agns) died in a motorcrash (al è muart intun incident stradâl). The accident took place (l’incident al è sucedût) at the break of day (sul cricâ dal dì) in Pasian di Prât (a Pasian di Prât).
La machine e je lade a sbati cuintri di un camion:
The car driven by the young man (la machine vuidade dal zovin) had veered into the oncoming lane (si jere spostade su chê altre corsie). It is not known (no si sa) if the accident occurred (se l’incident al è sucedût) due to nodding off to sleep (par un colp di sium) or because of a fit of pain (o par un mâl). The car collided (la machine e je lade a sbati) with a lorry (cuntun camion).
Up until two years ago (fin a doi agns indaûr), the young man had played football as a goalkeeper (il zovin al veve zuiât di balon tant che portîr). He was a good lad (al jere un brâf fantat), full of drive (plen di voie di fâ). Great mourning (grant corot) for the death of the young man (pe muart dal zovin). / Riferiment: La Vôs dai Furlans.
Sul cricâ dal dì: very early in the morning (une vore adore a matine). I start work at the crack of dawn (o tachi a vore sul cricâ dal dì); I wake up at the break of day (o jevi sul cricâ dal dì).
Une corsie [cor | sì | e]: a lane. The overtaking lane (la corsie di sorpàs); the oncoming lane (la corsie contrarie, chê altre corsie); the driver went into the oncoming lane (il vuidadôr al è lât in chê altre corsie).
Un colp di sium: a fit of sleep, a sudden onset of sleep. After eating supper I dozed off (dopo cene mi è vignût un colp di sium); the driver went off the road because he had dozed off (il vuidadôr al è lât fûr di strade par un colp di sium).
The police officers of Udin will be on strike (i polizais di Udin a saran in siopar) the entire day of Sunday 21 September (domenie ai 21 di Setembar par dute la zornade) and until Monday 22 for those who work the night shift (e fintremai a lunis 22 par chei che a son a vore tal turni di gnot). / Riferiment: La Vôs dai Furlans.
21 (vincjeun) / 22 (vincjedoi) / on 21 September (ai 21 di Setembar) / on Sunday 21 September (domenie ai 21 di Setembar) / until Monday (fintremai a lunis).
Officers of the local Police of Udin (i agjents de Polizie locâl di Udin) will be on strike (a saran in siopar) for the entire day of Sunday (par dute la zornade di domenie). Those who work (chei che a son a vore) on the night shift (tal turni di gnot) will be on strike until Monday (a saran in siopar fintremai a lunis).
un siopar [siò | par]: a strike. Definizion: astension dal lavorâ, fate di plui lavoradôrs par difindi interès e obietîfs sociâi, economics o politics. / to be on strike (jessi in siopar) / to go on strike (lâ in siopar). To hear the word siopar pronounced, listen to this news report in Friulian; the word is pronounced at 3.31.
The officers are on strike (i agjents a son in siopar). The officers will be on strike (i agjents a saran in siopar). The agents will go on strike (i agjents a laran in siopar). The officers went on strike (i agjents a son lâts in siopar).
un turni [tùr | ni]: a shift. Definizion: ogni dade di timp che si divît une ativitât lavorative. / a six-hour shift (un turni di sîs oris) / I have finished my shift (o ài finît il gno turni) / the night shift (il turni di gnot) / I work the night shift (o soi a vore tal turni di gnot).
A question was received regarding Matthew 5.14, in Friulian. This verse is part of the sermon on the mount, which in Friulian takes the name: il discors de mont (literally, the discourse of the mount). In this entry, a few tips regarding the Friulian language of this verse are provided. We hear the verse read aloud at 1.28 in the videoclip below.
Jesù al disè:
Vualtris o sês la lûs dal mont. Une citât metude suntune mont no pò restâ platade.
Jesus said:
You are the light of the world. A city set upon a mount cannot remain hidden.
1. Vualtris o sês: you are, second-person plural. Given that these words of Jesus form part of his sermon on the mount where He preaches to His disciples, second-person plural is used. For contrast, had these words been in second-person singular, which is used to address only one person, then we should rather have: tu tu sês. To be clear, had Jesus said this to just one person, we should have: tu tu sês la lûs dal mont (thou art the light of the world), but because He was speaking to more than one (His disciples), we have: vualtris o sês la lûs dal mont (you are the light of the world). Whereas in English the use of second-person singular thou has been lost, Friulian fully maintains it.
2. Vualtris sounds like uàtris, or using an approximated English spelling: wa-treess, with tonic stress on the wa syllable. The Friulian word altri means: other; the l of this word is not pronounced in any of its forms: altri (masculine singular); altris (masculine plural); altre (feminine singular); altris (feminine plural), which sound like: àtri, àtris, àtre, àtris. (The grave accent indicates where tonic stress falls.) Vu at the beginning of a Friulian word sounds much like the English w, so that we have examples such as the following: vualtris (uàtris; English: you, second-person plural); vuestri (uèstri; English: your, second-person plural; vuere (uère; English: war), vueli (uèli; English: oil), amongst others.
3. We have some instances of long vowels: sês, lûs, citât. A long vowel in Friulian is held slightly longer than a short vowel. A long vowel is indicated by the circumflex accent (â, ê, î, ô, û). Some Friulians disregard long vowels altogether and pronounce all vowels short. To produce the long vowel of lûs, say lus quickly (=short vowel), then say it again holding the u a little longer (=long vowel); this latter pronunciation produces: lûs. Moreover, in Friulian, many infinitives are marked with a circumflex accent (platâ, fevelâ, vê, plasê, finî, vignî); in this case, the circumflex accent is a spelling convention, and the vowel is in fact pronounced short (platà, fevelà, vè, finì, vignì), though it does still take the tonic stress on that syllable.
4. Mont appears twice, once as a masculine noun and once as a feminine noun. As a masculine noun, it means: world; as a feminine noun, it means: mount. This is why we have: lûs dal mont (light of the world), and not: lûs de mont (light of the mount); and why we have: suntune mont (upon a mount), and not: suntun mont (upon a world). This is also the reason for the Friulian term: il discors de mont (the discourse of the mount); if instead we say: il discors dal mont, then we have said something altogether different: the discourse of the world.
5. Citât, a feminine noun meaning: city. Some Friulians pronounce this as written: citât, with the initial consonant sounding like English ch; other Friulians pronounce it: sitât, with the initial consonant sounding like an s. The lectrice in the videoclip pronounces it with an initial s.
6. Metût is the past participle of meti, meaning: to put, to place, to set. The four forms of this past participle are: metût (masculine singular); metûts (masculine plural); metude (feminine singular); metudis (feminine plural). Given that the past participle in this verse must agree in gender and number with the feminine singular citât, we have the form: metude. Other examples: un munistîr metût suntune mont (a monastery set upon a mount); doi trois metûts suntune mont (two trails set upon a mount); une glesie metude suntune mont (a church set upon a mount); dôs cjasis metudis suntune mont (two houses set upon a mount).
7. Platât is the past participle of platâ, meaning: to hide, to conceal. Its four forms are: platât (masculine singular); platâts (masculine plural); platade (feminine singular); platadis (feminine plural). In this verse, we find the feminine singular platade, which agrees in gender and number with the feminine singular citât. Other examples: un troi platât (a hidden trail); doi munistîrs platâts (two hidden monasteries); une cjase platade (a hidden house); dôs glesiis platadis (two hidden churches).
8. No pò (cannot) is a feminine form of the third-person singular; its masculine equivalent of the third-person singular is: nol pò. In the third-person plural, both masculine and feminine, we have: no puedin. In this verse, no pò is in agreement with its feminine singular subject: une citât. Other examples: il cjistiel nol pò restâ platât (the castle cannot remain hidden); i cjistiei no puedin restâ platâts (the castles cannot remain hidden); la citât no pò restâ platade (the city cannot remain hidden); lis citâts no puedin restâ platadis (the cities cannot remain hidden).
In the Friulian language (in lenghe furlane), what difference is there (ce diference ise) between rock and stone (jenfri cret e clap)?
Rock is a natural material (il cret al è un materiâl naturâl), an aggregate of minerals that form the Earth’s crust (un agregât di minerâi che al forme la croste de Tiere). It is present in various sizes (al è presint in diviersis dimensions).
A stone is a smaller piece of rock (un clap al è un toc di cret plui piçul) smoothed by water (tarondât de aghe) or wrought by humans (o lavorât dai oms) as a construction or decoration material (tant che materiâl di costruzion o di decorazion), but it can also be rough (ma al pues ancje jessi grês), such as a field stone (come un clap di cjamp) or a stone found along a trail (o un clap cjatât dilunc di un troi).
Rock is the raw material (il cret al è la materie prime), whereas a stone implies human intervention (là che un clap impliche un intervent uman) or a natural smoothing (o un tarondament naturâl). All stones come from rock (ducj i claps a vegnin dal cret), but not all rocks are stones (ma no ducj i crets a son claps).
We do not speak of a rock house (no si fevele di une cjase di cret), but rather of a stone house (ma ben di une cjase di clap), but a stone house may happen to be built upon rock (ma pò dâsi che une cjase di clap e sedi fate sù sul cret). And if a boy goes down to the water (e se un fantat al va jù te aghe), he throws a stone (al tire un clap). To speak of a stone (par fevelâ di un clap), we can also use the feminine noun piere (o podìn ancje doprâ il sostantîf feminin piere). Examples (esemplis): to pick up a stone (cjapâ sù une piere); the stone that covers the well (la piere che e tapone il poç); a precious stone (une piere preziose).
Mosè al bat un colp su la crete e la aghe e spissule fûr:
In the Bible (te Bibie), we find not only the masculine noun cret (o cjatìn no dome il sostantîf masculin cret), but also the feminine noun crete (ma ancje il sostantîf feminin crete). Examples (esemplis): a house in the rock (une cjase tal cret); fortresses in the rock (fuartecis tal cret); the clefts of the rocks (i slambris dai crets, i slambris des cretis); Moses struck the rock (Mosè al à batût un colp su la crete); a great rock in arid land (une grande crete in tiere arsinide). To speak of the Lord (par fevelâ dal Signôr), we find the feminine noun (o cjatìn il sostantîf feminin): that rock was Christ (chê crete al jere Crist); the Lord is my rock (il Signôr al è la mê crete); the Lord is an everlasting rock (il Signôr al è une crete eterne).
Remark: In the singular, clap is pronounced as written; but the plural claps sounds like clâs.
In the videoclip about Gregory Linteris (tal filmât su Gregory Linteris), American astronaut of Friulian descent (astronaute american di riunde furlane), the presenter said that he was (la presentadore e à dit che al jere): bulo. If someone is bulo (se un al è bulo), then he is exceptional (alore al è ecezionâl), phenomenal (fenomenâl), a champion (un campion), a cut above the rest (fûr di classe)!
For example (par esempli), of Gregory Linteris (di Gregory Linteris), we can say that he is top notch on space missions (o podìn dî che al è bulo tes missions spaziâls). Or maybe someone else is great at exploring caves (o forsit cualchidun altri al è bulo tal esplorâ i landris); or an expert in design (o bulo tal disen); or skilled in chiselling (o bulo tal cesel); or an ace in computer science (o bulo te informatiche); or a pro at shooting with a rifle (o bulo tal trai cu la sclope); or impressive at speaking in Friulian (o bulo tal fevelâ par furlan)...
Al è bulo tal trai cul arc e ancje tal fevelâ par furlan:
In the Bible (te Bibie), the Friulian translators (i tradutôrs furlans) used the word bulo numerous times (a àn doprade la peraule bulo cetantis voltis). Here are some examples (ve ca cualchi esempli):
Puars mai lôr i bulos tal bevi vin e i valorôs tal jemplâ bocâi di bevandis che a incjochin! Woe to those who are heroes at drinking wine and those who are valiant at filling pitchers with drinks that intoxicate! / Isaie V,22.
Int di valôr, armade di scût e di spade, bulos tal trai cul arc e fenomenâi in vuere. Valiant men, armed with shield and spear, experts at shooting with a bow and phenomenal in war. / I Cronichis V,18.
A jerin oms di valôr, vuerîrs pronts a combati, bulos tal doprâ il scût e la lance. They were valiant men, warriors ready to battle, aces at using shield and spear. / I Cronichis XII,9.
Al è bon di sunâ {la arpe} e al è bulo ancje tal combati. He is skilled at playing {the harp} and is mighty also in combat. / I Samuel XVI,18.
Remarks: The expression to retain is: jessi bulo in. If followed by a masculine noun, we have: jessi bulo tal (disen, cesel...). If followed by a feminine noun, we have: jessi bulo te (informatiche, gjeografie...). Especially good to know is that Friulian infinitives can serve as masculine nouns. This is why we can say things such as: bulo tal sunâ la arpe, bulo tal doprâ il scût, bulo tal trai cul arc, bulo tal bevi vin. The four forms of bulo are: bulo (masculine singular); bulos (masculine plural); bule (feminine singular); bulis (feminine plural).
Why is it important to meditate in Friulian? (Parcè isal impuartant meditâ par furlan?) Doctor Filippo de Caneva (il dotôr Filippo de Caneva), specialist in rehabilitation medecine in Barcelona (miedi specialist in riabilitazion a Barcelone), gives us his opinion on the matter (nus ufrìs la sô opinion su la cuistion).
If you are of Friulian descent (se tu sês di riunde furlane), and even if you were born abroad (e ancje se tu sês nassût tal forest), listen to what the specialist tells us (scolte ce che nus dîs il specialist), and here is why (e va ca parcè): he says that the language of our ancestors (al dîs che la lenghe dai nestris vons) is related to an archaic function of the brain (e je leade a une funzion arcaiche dal cerviel).
Doctor Filippo de Caneva says (il dotôr Filippo de Caneva al dîs):
Before anything else (prime di dut), it is important to meditate (al è impuartant meditâ) in any language (in cualsisei lenghe). Every person has a mother tongue (ogni persone e à une lenghe mari) and a culture of origin (e une culture di provignince). It is important to meditate in this mother tongue (al è impuartant meditâ ta cheste lenghe mari) because it is closer to the emotions (parcè che e je plui dongje des emozions), closer to the deepest part of the brain (plui dongje de part plui profonde dal cerviel) from the neuroscientific point of view (dal pont di viste neurosientific).
It is thought that if a person is Friulian (si pense che se un al è furlan), meditating in Friulian (meditant par furlan), the work of inner purification is deeper (il lavôr di purificazion interiôr al è plui profont). The language of one’s childhood (la lenghe de infanzie), the language of one’s own origins (la lenghe des propriis origjins), is placed in the brain (e je metude tal cerviel) in the most archaic structures (tes struturis plui arcaichis), which is to say (ven a stâi), the basal ganglia (i ganglis de base), the thalamus (il talam) and the emotional part of the cerebral cortex (e la part emozionâl de scuarce cerebrâl), where habits and defensive processes are placed (dulà che a son metudis lis abitudins e i procès difensîfs), which characterise personality (che a caraterizin la personalitât).
Tasks like mindfulness meditation (i lavôrs come la meditazion di cussience), which is a work of purification and elimination (che al è un lavôr di purificazion e di eliminazion), it is certainly better to do them in one’s mother tongue (al è sigurementri miôr fâju te lenghe mari), which for us is Friulian (che par nô e je la lenghe furlane), or even if it’s not one’s mother tongue (o ancje se no je la lenghe mari), then in the language of one’s origin (alore te lenghe di origjin), the one from our ancestors (chê dai nestris vons).
--
And so (e alore), there is what the doctor has ordered us (ve ce che nus à ordenât il miedi), we who are of Friulian descent but born abroad (nô che o sin di riunde furlane ma nassûts tal forest): we ought to meditate in Friulian (o varessin di meditâ par furlan), the language of our forefathers (la lenghe dai nestris vons). Enough excuses (vonde scusis)!
Remarks: (i) Standardised vocabulary is used in the text above, but some of these words are not quite as the doctor said them. For example, he referred to the cortex as: la cortece; to ganglia as: i ganglions; and to mindfulness as: la consapevolece. (ii) Before chest and chel (and all their various forms), many Friulians will use: ta, rather than: in. That is why the doctor says: ta cheste lenghe, rather than: in cheste lenghe. Both forms are used and are correct. A few other examples: in those days (in chei dîs, ta chei dîs); in that village (in chel paîs, ta chel paîs); on that evening (in chê sere, ta chê sere); in this book (in chest libri, ta chest libri); in these last few months (in chescj ultins mês, ta chescj ultins mês).
In yesterday’s videoclip in Friulian (tal filmât di îr par furlan), the presenter named a large bird of prey (la presentadore e à nomenât un grant uciel di rapine): the bald eagle (la acuile coçone). Let’s speak a little about this great bird (fevelìn un pôc di chest grant uciel).
The bald eagle is an iconic raptor (la acuile coçone e je un rapaç iconic) of North America (de Americhe dal Nord). North America is also known (la Americhe dal Nord e je ancje cognossude) in the Friulian language (in lenghe furlane) by the name of (cul non di): la Americhe setentrionâl. The bald eagle is one of the national symbols (la acuile coçone e je un dai simbui nazionâi) of the United States (dai Stâts Unîts), admired for its strength and majesty (amirade pe sô fuarce e maestositât).
The wingspan of the bald eagle (la largjece des alis de acuile coçone) is two metres (e je di doi metris) and its body is a little less than a metre long (e il cuarp al è lunc pôc mancul di un metri). Its white head (il cjâf blanc), its yellow beak (il bec zâl) and its dark brown body (e il cuarp maron scûr) render the bald eagle unmistakeable (a fasin deventâ inconfondibile la acuile coçone).
This raptor lives near rivers, lakes and coasts (chest rapaç al vîf dongje di flums, lâts e cuestis), where it feeds on fish (dulà che si nudrìs di pes), caught with its sharp talons (cjapâts cu lis sôs sgrifis uçadis). It makes enormous nests (al fâs nîts enormis) and often reuses them for years (e dispès al torne a doprâju par agns).
In the Friulian language (in lenghe furlane), the adjective coçon means (l’adietîf coçon al vûl dî): bald. A man without hair (un om cence cjavei) or who has little of it (o che a ’nd à pôcs) is bald (al è coçon). We can also say that he is (o podìn ancje dî che al è): crop. Let’s do an example in Friulian (fasìn un esempli par furlan): he went bald at age fifty (al è deventât crop a cincuante agns).
Of the bald eagle (de acuile coçone), it is said to be bald (si dîs che e je coçone) due to the white feathers on its head (par vie des plumis blancjis sul cjâf), which contrast with its dark body (che a fasin contrast cul cuarp scûr). From afar (di lontan), this particularity gives us the impression (cheste particolaritât nus da la impression) of a bald head (di un cjâf coçon).
Final remark. Indi means: thereof {of it, of them}; but if the next word begins with a vowel, indi can contract to ind. Un om cence cjavei o che ind à pôcs means: a man without hair or who has little thereof; ind à pôcs sounds like: indapôs, with tonic stress on the final syllable. In the spoken language (and in the text above), you will also encounter: a ’nd a pôcs, which sounds like: andapôs. Therefore, an especially spoken version is: un om cence cjavei o ch’a ’nd a pôcs, where ch’a ’nd a pôcs sounds like: candapôs.
PART 4. The astronaut Gregory Linteris and the Friulian flag (l’astronaute Gregory Linteris e la bandiere furlane).
T 3.00+
Tornât su la tiere, al è stât ospit de Famee Furlane di Toronto, là che al à presentade la bandiere furlane puartade in mission, intant de prime videoclamade de storie fra Friûl e Canadà. Gregory nol è stât dome astronaute. Al à lavorât tant che ricercjadôr tes istituzions sientifichis plui impuartantis dai USA; e ancjemò vuê al è un sienziât dal National Institute of Standards and Technology. Bulo, eh? In pratiche, se o cirìs la definizion di studiât sul dizionari, o cjatais la sô foto in bande. Ma par nô furlans, Gregory al è stât soredut un esempli di amôr pe sô tiere e di determinazion, insegnantnus che cu la fuarce di volontât si pues rivâ propit di cualsisei bande. Un piçul pas par un furlan, un grant pas pe furlanetât.
Back on earth, he was hosted by the Famee Furlane of Toronto, where he presented the Friulian flag carried on the mission, during the first videocall in history between Friûl and Canada. Gregory wasn’t just an astronaut. He worked as a researcher in the most important scientific institutions of the USA; and even today, he’s a scientist with the National Institute of Standards and Technology. Impressive guy, eh? Basically, if you look up the definition of a scholar in the dictionary, you’ll find his photo beside it. But for us Friulians, Gregory was above all an example of love for his homeland and of determination, teaching us that with willpower, you really can go anywhere. One small step for a Friulian, one giant leap for Friulanity.
Furlanetât: the community of Friulians (la coletivitât dai furlans) throughout the world (in dut il mont).
Neil Armstrong said (Neil Armstrong al à dit): One small step for a man (un piçul pas par un om), one giant leap for mankind (un grant pas pe umanitât).
Why Toronto? (Parcè Toronto?) Linteris has paternal Friulian relatives (Linteris al à parincj furlans dal pari) who live in Toronto (che a son a stâ a Toronto) and are very active (e che a son une vore atîfs) in the Famee Furlane of that city (te Famee Furlane di chê citât); these relatives gave Linteris (chescj parincj i àn dât a Linteris) the Friulian flag that he took up into space (la bandiere furlane che al à puartade cun se tal spazi).
PART 3. The astronaut Gregory Linteris and the Friulian flag (l’astronaute Gregory Linteris e la bandiere furlane).
T 2.00-3.00
Nol podeve lassâ a cjase il simbul de sô tiere, cundut che chei de NASA, sul imprin, no volevin permeti cheste ecezion a lis regulis. Ma i furlans se si metin tal cjâf alc, no molin, e a puedin puartâ il Friûl tal lôr cûr, ma ancje tal spazi. Dì po! What âstu lì? {Ce âstu lì?} This is not acuile çocone americane. {Cheste no je l’acuile çocone americane.} Ce eagle ise
cheste? {Ce acuile ise cheste?} Furlan eagle? (La acuile furlane?} Bon, dai, o close the eyes par cheste volte. {Bon, dai, o sieri i voi par cheste volte.} Va
là, va là. Monte up. {Monte sù.} Al è cussì che Gregory al à fat svolâ la acuile dal Friûl ator dal mont e parsore dai cjâfs di miliarts di personis. Tra la prime mission e la seconde, Greg al à viazât par siet milions e votcent mil chilometris in tresinte e cutuardis orbitis ator de tiere. Cui sa se di là sù si viôt il Friûl...
He couldn’t leave at home the symbol of his homeland, though the NASA people, at first, didn’t want to allow this exception to the rules. But if Friulians get something in their head, they don’t give up, and they can carry Friûl in their heart, and even into space. Say now! What have you there? This is not the American bald eagle. What eagle is this? The Friulian eagle? Fine, go ahead, I’ll close my eyes this time. Go on, go on, board. That is how Gregory made the eagle of Friûl fly around the world and over the heads of billions of people. Between the first and second missions, Greg travelled seven million and eight hundred thousand kilometres in three hundred and fourteen orbits around the earth. Who knows if you can see Friûl from up there...
PART 2. The astronaut Gregory Linteris and the Friulian flag (l’astronaute Gregory Linteris e la bandiere furlane).
T 1.00-2.00
Gregory al è nassût tal New Jersey di doi emigrâts furlans: Luigi Linteris di San Zuan di Cjasarse e Elena Maria Alfenore di Prodolon di San Vît dal Tiliment. Al passe agns a studiâ: une lauree a Princeton, un master a Stanford, un dotorât in inzegnarie mechaniche e aerospaziâl; e dopo selezions e adestraments une vore dûrs al devente pilote dai shuttle da la NASA. Cussì, ai 4 di Avrîl dal 1997 {ai cuatri di Avrîl dal mil nûfcent e novantesiet}, juste la dì dopo de Fieste de Patrie, al monte sul shuttle pe mission sientifiche STS-83 {ese-ti-ese-otantetrê} e si puarte daûr la bandiere dal Friûl. Galatic, nomo? Gregory al à ereditât dai gjenitôrs l’amôr pe sô tiere: il prin astronaute Made in Friûl e Born in the USA.
Gregory was born in New Jersey of two Friulian emigrants: Luigi Linteris from San Zuan di Cjasarse and Elena Maria Alfenore from Prodolon di San Vît dal Tiliment. He spent years studying: a bachelor’s at Princeton, a master’s at Stanford, a doctorate in mechanical and aerospace engineering; and after very tough selections and training, he became a NASA shuttle pilot. So, on 4 April 1997, the day right after the Fieste de Patrie, he boarded the shuttle for scientific mission STS-83 and brought along the Friulian flag. Galactic, isn’t it? Gregory inherited from his parents a love for his homeland: the first astronaut Made in Friûl and Born in the USA.
Al passe, al devente, al monte, si puarte daûr: These are all in the present tense. Friulian often uses the present tense when recounting historical facts: he spends, he becomes, he boards, he brings along.
PART 1. The astronaut Gregory Linteris and the Friulian flag (l’astronaute Gregory Linteris e la bandiere furlane).
T 0.00-1.00
Un... doi... cincuantevot... cent e vincjedoi... Oh, vêso mai notât? In cualsisei puest tal mont che tu ledis, un furlan tu lu cjatis simpri; e spes chel furlan nol dismentee di puartâsi daûr la bandiere de Patrie, e nancje di fâsi une biele foto cun jê. Ma al è un furlan che, cu la bandiere, al à fat tant di plui. Le à poiade su la piche de piramide di Gjiza? Risposta errata! Te cupule dal Taj Mahal? Falât! Sul Everest? No! O sai che no mi crodarês, ma un furlan le à puartade adiriture intal spazi. Eh sì. Un uomo, una leggenda... O fevelìn di Gregory Thomas Linteris. Il prin astronaute furlan.
One... two... fifty-eight... one hundred and twenty-two... Oh, have you ever noticed? Wherever you go in the world. you’ll always find a Friulian; and often that Friulian neither forgets to bring along the flag of the Patrie, nor to take a nice of himself photo with it. But there’s a Friulian who, with the flag, did so much more. Did he put it on the tip of the pyramid of Giza? Wrong answer! On the dome of the Taj Mahal? Incorrect! On Everest? No! I know you won’t believe me, but a Friulian has even taken it into space. Oh yeah. A man, a legend... We are talking about Gregory Thomas Linteris. The first Friulian astronaut.
Un astronaute: an astronaut. In the plural: i astronautis. Examples: the astronauts went to space (i astronautis a son lâts intal spazi); the astronauts explored the cosmos (i astronautis a àn esplorât il cosmi).
Cualsisei = cualsisedi (any, whichever, whatever); both forms are commonly used. Che tu ledis: that you may go; present subjunctive, second-person singular. In cualsisei puest tal mont che tu ledis: wherever you go in the world (literally, in whatever place in the world that you may go). More examples: at any moment (in cualsisedi moment); for whatever reason (par cualsisei reson); whatever he says, I don’t believe him one bit (cualsisei robe ch’al disi, no i crôt piç).
Dismenteâ: to forget. Examples: he drinks to forget (al bêf par dismenteâ); to forget one’s keys (dismenteâ lis clâfs); to forget one’s family (dismenteâ la famee); to forget one’s passport (dismenteâ il passepuart). We can also use: dismenteâsi di. Examples: to forget one’s keys (dismenteâsi des clâfs); to forget one’s family (dismenteâsi de famee); to forget one’s passport (dismenteâsi dal passepuart).
Puartâsi daûr: to bring along (literally, to bring behind oneself). Example: don’t forget that you have to bring along all these documents (no sta dismenteâ che tu âs di puartâti daûr ducj chescj documents).
No mi crodarês: you will not believe me, second-person plural. To say it in second-person singular, we use: no tu mi crodarâs.
The speaker uses some Italian: (i) for wrong answer, she says: risposta errata, which in Friulian is: rispueste falade; (ii) una leggenda, to qualify a man as exceptional; in Friulian, we can use: une liende, or we can even say that he is mythical: un mît (literally, a myth). Chel om al è un mît: that man is a legend.
We have learnt (o vin imparât) in these last few days (in chescj ultins dîs) that the Friulian word fumate (che la peraule furlane fumate) in English means (par inglês e vûl dî): fog. For instance (par esempli), we can say (o podìn dî) that heavy fog limits visibility (che la fumate penze e limite la visibilitât).
Let’s look at the photo below (cjalìn la foto chi sot). Due to the heavy fog (par cause de fumate penze), visibility is not good (la visibilitât no je buine):
But the word fumate (ma la peraule fumate) also indicates anger (e indiche ancje la rabie). For instance (par esempli), we can speak of the wrath of the Lord (o podìn fevelâ de fumate dal Signôr). We just have to look at the image below (nus baste cjalâ la imagjin chi sot) to understand why (par capî parcè) we can use the word fumate (che o podìn doprâ la peraule fumate) to speak also of anger (par fevelâ ancje de rabie):
We can use this word (o podìn doprâ cheste peraule) in everyday language (tal lengaç di ogni dì). Let’s do an example (fasìn un esempli): today’s latest news makes my blood boil (lis ultimis gnovis di vuê mi fasin vignî sù la fumate). Fâ vignî sù: to make to come up, to cause to rise.
Yesterday (îr), in Italy (in Italie), a holiday was celebrated (e je stade celebrade une fieste). In the Italian language (in lenghe taliane), this holiday is known as Ferragosto (cheste fieste e je cognossude come Ferragosto), but in Friulian it is called (ma par furlan si clamile): la Madone di Avost, whose name in English would be translated as (non che par inglês al vignarès voltât come): the Madonna of August. This holiday (cheste fieste), celebrated on the fifteenth of August (celebrade ai cuindis di Avost), coincides with the Assumption (e coincît cu la Assunzion) of the Blessed Virgin Mary (de Beade Virgjine Marie), which is to say (ven a stâi), the Madonna’s ascent into heaven (la elevazion in cîl de Madone).
La Assunzion di Marie si celebre ai cuindis di Avost:
The period surrounding the day of the Madone di Avost (il periodi sot de zornade de Madone di Avost) is a holiday time (al è un timp di vacance). We use the name of this holiday (o doprìn il non di cheste fieste) to speak not only of the fifteenth of the month (par fevelâ no dome dai cuindis dal mês), but also of the entire holiday period which includes that day (ma ancje di dut il timp di vacance che al cjape dentri chel dì). For example (par esempli), we can say (o podìn dî): the Madone di Avost fell this year on a Friday (la Madone di Avost e je colade chest an di vinars), or even (o ancje): for the Madone di Avost we went to the mountains for four days (par Madone di Avost o vin stât in mont cuatri dîs). Careful (atenzion): (i) o sin stâts = we were, we have been; (ii) o vin stât = we went, we have gone; (iii) o vin stât = o sin lâts. Let’s do another example (fasìn un altri esempli): For the Madone di Avost long weekend (pal puint de Madone di Avost), I went to Tumieç (o soi lât a Tumieç / o ài stât a Tumieç).
Even if citizens suspend their work activities (ancje se i citadins a sospindin lis lôr ativitâts lavoritivis) to go on holiday (par lâ in vacance), few are the robbers who will do the same (a son pôcs i laris che a fasaran chel tant)! There could even be (pò ancje dâsi che e sedi) a whole host of robberies (dute une schirie di robariis) during the day of the fifteenth of August (dilunc de zornade dai cuindis dal Avost). The owners are away from home (i parons a son fûr cjase) and will discover the robbery (e a scuvierzaran la robarie) only when they come back from holidays (dome cuant che a tornaran indaûr des feriis).
Here is the expression used (ve chi la espression doprade) around this holiday (sot di cheste fieste) to wish good things to come to someone (par augurâi a cualchidun che i vegni dal ben): Buine Madone di Avost, which is to say (ven a stâi): Happy Madone di Avost.
These past few days (in chescj ultins dîs), we have spoken about numerous weather conditions (o vin fevelât di cetantis cundizions meteorologjichis) in the Friulian language (in lenghe furlane). Let’s continue on the theme (anìn indenant cul teme), but from a different perspective (ma cuntune prospetive divierse).
When the sky is without clouds (cuant che il cîl al è cence nûi), it is said that the sky is (si dîs che il cîl al è): seren, which is to say (ven a stâi): clear. For example (par esempli), we can say (o podìn dî): today the sky is clear (vuê il cîl al è seren). If you take a peek at the forecast (se tu dâs un cûc a lis previsions), maybe you will read something of the sort (forsit tu leiarâs alc dal gjenar): mostly clear sky in Secuals (cîl pal plui seren a Secuals).
The Friulian word seren also means (la peraule furlane seren e vûl ancje dî): serene, calm. For example (par esempli), to speak of a state of inner peace (par fevelâ di un stât di pâs interiôr), we can say (o podìn dî): I have peace of mind (o ài il spirt seren). We use the Friulian word spirt (o doprìn la peraule spirt) to speak of the condition of one’s mind (par fevelâ de cundizion dal anim). Another example (un altri esempli): I’m not in the right spirit {frame of mind} to read this book (no ài il spirt just par lei chest libri).
Let’s speak now of proverbs (fevelìn cumò di proverbis). A proverb is a short saying (un proverbi al è un sproc curt) of folk origin (di divignince popolâr) that reveals a rule (che al pant une regule), an idea (une idee) or practical life guidance (o une indicazion pratiche di vite) drawn from experience (tirade fûr de esperience).
Here is a Friulian proverb (ve chi un proverbi furlan): parsore il nûl al è simpri seren, which word for word in the English language is (che peraule par peraule in lenghe inglese al sarès): it’s always clear above the cloud. We can also say it like this (o podìn ancje dîlu cussì): parsore il nûl al è simpri bon timp, which word for word in the English language is (che peraule par peraule in lenghe inglese al sarès): it’s always nice weather above the cloud.
These proverbs mean (chescj proverbis a vuelin dî) that we will always find peace of mind (che o cjatarìn simpri la calme dal spirt) beyond the problems of the moment (di là dai fastidis dal moment). These proverbs also bring about (chescj proverbis a fasin ancje) that we lift our eyes up to God (che o alcìn i voi viers Diu) who is the heavens (che al è tai cîi), high above (là sù adalt).
Last year (l’an passât) along a motorway in Friûl (dilunc di une autostrade in Friûl), the double central line (la dople linie centrâl) that indicates the prohibition (che e segnale la improibizion) of overtaking between the two lanes (dal sorpàs tra lis dôs corsiis) was redone (e je stade rifate). These stripes are special (chestis strichis a son speciâls) because they make a sound (parcè che a sunin) if the driver tries to overtake (se il vuidadôr al cîr di sorpassâ) by entering the oncoming lane (lant in chê altre corsie). / Riferiment: La Vôs dai Furlans.
The two white stripes (lis dôs strichis blancjis) indicate that the driver must not overtake (a segnalin che il vuidadôr nol à di sorpassâ); if he tries to do so (se al cîr di fâ chel tant) by entering the oncoming lane (lant in chê altre corsie), the stripes make a sound (lis strichis a sunin) due to those bits that stick out (par vie di chei tocs che a dan infûr). If a car passes over those bits (se une machine e passe parsore di chei tocs), they make a sound (a fasin un sun).
These stripes make the roads safer (chestis strichis a fasin plui siguris lis stradis), especially at night (soredut vie pe gnot) and when there is fog (e cuant che e je fumate). If the fog is thick (se la fumate e je penze), the roads are more dangerous (lis stradis a son plui pericolosis) because visibility is not good (parcè che la visibilitât no je buine). Visibility is also limited at night (la visibilitât e je ancje limitade vie pe gnot), but it could also be (ma pò ancje dâsi) that a tired driver falls asleep behind the wheel (che un vuidadôr strac si indurmidissi al volant). As for those who are sozzled drunk (par ce che al tocje chei che a son cjocs in bale) when they invade the oncoming lane (cuant che a invadin chê altre corsie), those drivers will have to have a saint in heaven (chei vuidadôrs a varan di vê un sant in cîl).
Traffic law (codiç de strade): If the stripes are continuous (se lis strichis a son continuis) and carry on without interruption (e a van indenant cence interuzion), overtaking is prohibited (il sorpàs al è improibît). If the stripes are short (se lis strichis a son curtis), the one after the other (une daûr di chê altre), overtaking is permitted (il sorpàs al è permetût).
Reminder (pro memoria): In the Friulian language (in lenghe furlane), a pedestrian crossing is also known as (un passaç pedonâl al è ancje cognossût come): lis strichis, which is to say (ven a stâi): the stripes. For that reason (par chel), if one crosses the street using the pedestrian crossing (se un al travierse la strade doprant il passaç pedonâl), we can say that he is crossing the street at the stripes (o podìn dî che al travierse la strade li des strichis).
Now I will use Friulian (adès i dopri il furlan) in the variant of Dograva (ta la variant di Dograva). In the YouPalTubo videoclip from yesterday (tal filmât di YouPalTubo di jêr), we learnt this word (i vin imparât chista peraula): fumatele, which is to say (ven a stâi): mist. But did you know (ma savevitu) that at Dograva (che a Dograva), in the municipality of San Zors da la Richinvelda (tal comun di San Zors da la Richinvelda), they say (a disin): caligo? A few examples (cualchi esempli) of how people speak there (di semôt ch’a si çacara ulì):
1. I crossed a meadow full of mist: (Dograva) i ài sçavassât un prât plen di caligo; (standard) o ài scjavaçât un prât plen di fumatele.
2. The heat of June and the mist of October: (Dograva) il çalt di zuin e il caligo di otobre; (standard) il cjalt di Jugn e la fumatele di Otubar.
3. The November mist hides things outside: (Dograva) il caligo di novembre al plata li robis di fôr; (standard) la fumatele di Novembar e plate lis robis di fûr.
Right (ben), enough of this word (avonda cun chista peraula). In the variant of Dograva (ta la variant di Dograva), they also say things like (si çacara ença cussì):
4. The sky was blue, without a cloud: (Dograva) il sêl al era selest, sensa una nula; (standard) il cîl al jere celest, cence un nûl.
5. A nice clear sky, without clouds: (Dograva) un biel sêl net, sensa nulis; (standard) un biel cîl net, cence nûi.
La glesia di San Laurins Martar, a Dograva, sot di un sêl selest, sensa una nula:
6. The sky is getting darker and darker: (Dograva) il sêl al è sempri pi neri; (standard) il cîl al è simpri plui neri.
7. For now it is not raining: (Dograva) par adès a nol plôf; (standard) par cumò nol plûf.
8. In the harshness of a December sky: (Dograva) tal gherp di un sêl di dicembre; (standard) tal garp di un cîl di Dicembar.
9. The rain is starting to get us wet: (Dograva) la ploia a taca a bagnâni; (standard) la ploie e tache a bagnânus.
10. I had to go out, rain or shine: (Dograva) i vevi di zî fôr, soreli o ploia ch’a fos; (standard) o vevi di lâ fûr, soreli o ploie che e fos.
PART 5. What’s the weather like? (Ce timp fasial?)
T 1.44+
—Scolte, Desiree. No podaressino piâ un ninin di riscjaldament? I ài i sgrisui di frêt. —Cemût frêt? Tu starâs pôc ben? —A je une criùre chi dentri. —Sù mo, nancje ch’al fos dute une glace. —Al è dut un veri! // —Notaitsi al canâl. —E viodêt di fâi plovi i poleârs. —E mi racomandi: lait planc, ch’al è dut un veri!
—Listen, Desiree. Can’t we turn on a wee bit of heat? I’m shivering with cold. —What do you mean cold? You’re not sick, are you? —There’s a chill in here. —Come on, it’s not as though it’s total ice. —It’s total glass! // —Subscribe to the channel. —And be sure to make your thumbs rain down there. —And a word of caution: go easy, ’cos it’s total glass!
1. no podaressino: might’nt we be able; first-person plural, present conditional, negated interrogative.
2. i ài = o ài — i ài i sgrisui di frêt = o ài i sgrisui di frêt: I’m shivering cold (lit., I have the shivers of cold).
3. a je = e je — a je une criùre = e je une criùre: there’s a chill, it’s cold.
4. il veri: glass; used figuratively here on account of its similar appearance and texture to ice.
5. il poleâr: thumb; the YouPalTubo crew tend to just use poleâr, which means thumb, to indicate a thumb of approval on the YouTube scoring system. For instance, they can be heard saying in other videoclips: fracait il poleâr (click the thumb). But we can also say things like: dâ un poleâr sù (to give a thumbs-up), o ài dât un poleâr jù (I gave a thumbs-down), sù i poleârs! (put your thumbs up!), metêt un biel like! (drop a big like!), amongst other formulations. Related: sù lis mans! (put your hands up!), said by a policeman.
PART 4. What’s the weather like? (Ce timp fasial?)
T 1.12-1.44
—No, vuê propit no je fâs... ce raze di scjafoiaç! —Tu puedis dîlu. Vuê al è un tuf incredibil. O vevi pensât di lâ sù in mont a viodi se si respire un ninin di plui. Ce ditu, ventu cun me? Anìn? —Par dî il vêr, o vevi miôr lâ a butâmi te aghe, par scjampâ di cheste canicule. —Sì, te aghe, sù mo! Come a lâ a fâ il bagn tal brût al puest dai tortelins.
—No, today I really can’t take it... what a scorcher! —Tell me about it. Today there’s an incredible swelter. I’d thought of going up into mountains to see if you can breathe a wee bit more. What do you say, are you coming with me? Let’s go? —To tell the truth, I wanted instead to go jump in the water, to get away from this heat wave. —Yes, in the water, let’s do it! Like going to bathe in broth in the place of tortellini.
1. fâje: to take it, to handle it, to be able to do it — no je fâs: I can’t take it, I can’t handle it, I can’t do it.
2. tu puedis dîlu = tu âs dite propite ben (from part 1): you can say that again, you’ve got that right, tell me about it, spot on, no kidding.
3. ce ditu? = ce disistu?: what do you say?
4. ventu cun me? = vegnistu cun me?: are you coming with me?
5. vê miôr: to prefer, to want instead (lit. to have better).
