In lenghe furlane, ce diference ise jenfri cret e clap?

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.

Al è bulo tal trai cul arc e ancje tal fevelâ par furlan

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).

Parcè isal impuartant meditâ par furlan? Opinion: Dot. Filippo de Caneva

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).

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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).

La acuile coçone, grant uciel di rapine amirât pe sô fuarce e maestositât

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.

Robis di no crodi: L’astronaute Greg Linteris al è lât intal spazi cu la bandiere furlane [4]

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).

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Robis di no crodi: L’astronaute Greg Linteris al è lât intal spazi cu la bandiere furlane [3]

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...

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Robis di no crodi: L’astronaute Greg Linteris al è lât intal spazi cu la bandiere furlane [2]

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.

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Robis di no crodi: L’astronaute Greg Linteris al è lât intal spazi cu la bandiere furlane [1]

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.

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La fumate dal Signôr, ce robe ise?

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.

Madone di Avost, la fieste celebrade ai 15 di Avost in dute Italie

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.

Proverbi furlan: Parsore il nûl al è simpri seren

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).

Sorpàs improibît! Stradis plui siguris cu lis strichis che a sunin

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).

Semôt ch’a si çacara a Dograva: I ài sçavassât un prât plen di caligo

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.

Foto: Pro Loco di San Zors da la Richinvelda

Ce timp fasial? Al è dut un veri, no podaressino piâ il riscjaldament? [5]

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.

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Ce timp fasial? Vuê al è un tuf incredibil, no je fâs plui [4]

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).

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Ce timp fasial? Viôt ca ce raze di sglavin, al ven jù a selis [3]

PART 3. What’s the weather like? (Ce timp fasial?)

T 0.45-1.12

—Davide, mancumâl ch’al jere dome un nûl, eh? Viôt ca ce raze di sglavin! —Eh, in efiets, al ven jù a selis, eh? Spiete ch’o doi un cûc a lis previsions dal Osmer. Savevitu che ogni dì a vegnin fûr par furlan? —Oh sì, Davide, sì, l’impuartant però, al sarès cjalâlis prin di partî. —Eh bon, dài, fasìn come a San Denêl cuant ch’al plûf... i lassìn plovi!

—Davide, good thing it was just one cloud, eh? Look at what a downpour! —Eh, indeed, it’s coming down in buckets, eh? Hold on while I take a look at the Osmer forecast. Did you know that every day it comes out in Friulian? —Oh yes, Davide, yes, but the important thing is to look at them before leaving. —Oh alright, come on, let’s do as in San Denêl when it rains... we let it rain!

1. Une raze: kind, sort; cognate with English race. Une raze di cjans: a dog breed. Desiree pronounces it ratse; others pronounce it rasse. Viôt ca ce raze di sglavin: lit., look here what race {kind, sort} of downpour, which is to say, look at what a downpour, just look at what a downpour it is.

2. Une sele: pail, bucket.

3. savevitu? = savevistu? — savevitu ch’al veve plot dute la gnot? = savevistu che al veve plot dute la gnot?: did you know that it had rained all night?

4. i lassìn = o lassìn — i lassìn plovi = o lassìn plovi: we let it rain.

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Ce timp fasial? Viôt ch’al sbivicje, ruvinâts i plans par vuê [2]

PART 2. What’s the weather like? (Ce timp fasial?) 

T 0.15-0.45

—Oh no, Davide. Viôt ch’al sbivicje. Ruvinâts i plans par vuê... —Ce robe? Ce âtu dite? Ce? —Al sbivicje. Se al continue cussì, no lìn di nissune bande vuê. —Ah, al plovisigne, tu intendevis. Sì, ma no sta mighe preocupâti, eh! Sì, al è un nûl ch’al cor vie subit. Al mole, al mole, no sta preocupâti.

—Oh no, Davide. Look how it’s mizzling. Plans are ruined for today... —What? What did you say? What? —It’s mizzling. If it keeps up like this, we won’t be going anywhere today. —Ah, it’s drizzling, you meant. Yes, but you hardly need to worry, eh! Yes, there’s a cloud that’ll blow away fast. It’ll let up, it’ll let up, don’t worry.

1. sbivicjâ = plovisignâ: to drizzle. Desiree and Davide have two different ways of referring to drizzle: la sbivicje for Desiree, and la plovisigne for Davide. This is no different to English with its regional variants. Desiree in fact says sbivice rather than sbivicje.

2. âtu = âstu — ce âtu fat?, ce âtu viodût?, ce âtu scrit? = ce âstu fat?, ce âstu viodût?, ce âstu scrit?: what have you done?, what have you seen?, what have you written?

3. dite = dit — ce âtu dite? = ce âstu dit?: what have you said?

4. al continue: it continues; tonic stress on second syllable (con-tì-nu-e).

5. cori vie: lit., to run away — il nûl al cor vie: the cloud is blowing away (lit., the cloud is running away, the cloud is running off).

6. subit: at once, immediately, straight away; tonic stress on final syllable (su-bìt).

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Ce timp fasial? Fumatele e umit, il timp just par stâ tal jet [1]

PART 1. What’s the weather like? (Ce timp fasial?)

 T 0.00-0.15

—Ma cjale ca! A vevin dite ch’al veve di sei tant soreli vuê. Invezit, cjo. Cjale ce robis. —Sì, propit. Fumatele e umit. Il timp just par stâ tal jet. —Tu âs dite propite ben.

—Now look here! They’d said there’d be a lot of sun today. Instead, look. Look how it is. —Yes, exactly. Misty and damp. The perfect weather to stay in bed. —You can say that again.

1. dite = dit — a vevin dite = a vevin dit: they had said.

2. sei = jessi — al à di sei tant soreli = al à di jessi tant soreli: there’s supposed to be a lot of sun.

3. propite = propit — tu âs dite propite ben = tu âs dit propit ben: you can say that again, you’ve got that right (lit., you’ve said just right).

4. la fumatele: mist — la fumate: fog — fumate penze: thick fog. La matine e jere cjalde ma cuntun tic di fumatele: the morning was warm but with a bit of mist. La fumate penze e limite la visibilitât: thick fog limits visibility.

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Vecje bombe a man cjatade intun toblât

In the month of January (tal mês di Zenâr) of this year (di chest an) an old hand grenade was found (une vecje bombe a man e je stade cjatade) in a barn in Pagnà (intun toblât a Pagnà).

A woman in Pagnà (une siore a Pagnà), while she was tidying up her family’s old stable (intant che e stave metint a puest la vecje stale de sô famee), managed to find (e à rivât a cjatâ) a hand grenade from the Second World War (une bombe a man de Seconde Vuere Mondiâl), made in Italy (fate in Italie).

The carabinîrs responded to the scene (sul puest a son intervignûts i carabinîrs). Seeing as the explosive inside the hand grenade (viodût che l’esplosîf dentri de bombe a man) was in very poor condition (al jere in cundizions par nuie buinis), the soldiers* took the device away (i militârs a àn puartât vie l’argagn) and detonated it in a safe area (e lu àn fat tonâ intune aree sigure) before the end of the day (prime de fin de zornade). / Riferiment: Telefriuli.

Une vecje bombe a man:

*Though the carabinîrs have civil policing duties (ancje se i carabinîrs a àn compits di polizie civile), they are one of the four Italian armed forces (a son une des cuatri fuarcis armadis talianis). That is why (par chel) they are sometimes called soldiers (si clamiju a voltis militârs). We read (o leìn): the soldiers took the device away (i militârs a àn puartât vie l’argagn) — but it does not mean that the regular army intervened (ma nol vûl dî che al sedi intervignût l’esercit regolâr). We are just dealing with the carabinîrs (si trate dome dai carabinîrs) and their bomb disposal experts (e dai lôr artificîrs).

The Italian Armed Forces (lis Fuarcis Armadis Talianis) comprise four main components (a cjapin dentri cuatri components principâi) under the Ministry of Defence (sot dal Ministeri de Difese):

1. Italian Army (Esercit Talian);
2. Italian Navy (Marine Militâr);
3. Italian Air Force (Aeronautiche Militâr);
4. Corps of Carabinîrs (Arme dai Carabinîrs).
   

As for the Friulian words polizai/poliziot (par ce che al tocje lis peraulis furlanis polizai/poliziot), which mean (che a vuelin dî): policeman/police officer, these indicate an officer of the Italian State Police (chestis a indichin un agjent de Polizie di Stât). An officer of a local police force (un agjent de polizie locâl), which is to say (ven a stâi) of a municipal police force (de polizie municipâl), is an urban watchman (al è un vigjil urban).

L'om che i vevin dite di no movisi al è stât montât sul elicotar

In Friulian (par furlan), the verb dî means (il verp dî al vûl dî): to say, to tell. We can also use (o podìn ancje doprâ): disi.

cence nancje dî gracie
cence nancje disi gracie
without even saying thanks

or even (o ancje):

cence nancje dî graciis
cence nancje disi graciis
without even saying thanks

Using the Friulian of Dograva (doprant il furlan di Dograva), we also have (i vin ença): sensa nença disi grassie.

As for the past participle (par ce che al tocje il participi passât), it is (al è): dit. We can also use (o podìn ancje doprâ): dite.

al à dit propit cussì
al à dite propit cussì
that is exactly what he said

Using the Friulian of Dograva (doprant il furlan di Dograva), we also have (i vin ença): al à dita propit cussì.

Right (ben). Let’s read now a few simplified sentences (leìn cumò cualchi frase semplificade) taken from the newspaper (gjavade fûr dal gjornâl):

A hiker was rescued by helicopter (un escursionist al è stât socorût cul elicotar). He had asked for help (al veve domandât jutori) because he could not find the trail (parcè che nol rivave a cjatâ il troi) and because he felt very tired (e parcè che si sintive une vore strac). The helicopter rescue techicians arrived (i tecnics dal elicotar a son rivâts) a short distance from the man (a pocje distance dal om) whom they had told not to move (che i vevin dite di no movisi). / Riferiment: La Vôs dai Furlans.

l’om che i vevin dit di no movisi
l’om che i vevin dite di no movisi
the man whom they had told not to move

Let’s keep going (anìn indenant)...

la femine che i vevin dit di no movisi
la femine che i vevin dite di no movisi
the woman whom they had told not to move

i oms che ur vevin dit di no movisi
i oms che ur vevin dite di no movisi
the men whom they had told not to move

lis feminis che ur vevin mostrât il document
the women to whom they had showed the document

l’om che i ài dât il libri
the man to whom I gave the book

i fantats che ur darìn i vistîts
the lads to whom we shall give the clothing

L’om che i vevin dite di no movisi al è stât montât sul elicotar.
The man whom they had told not to move was put onto the helicopter.

Stelis che a colin: Osservazion dal cîl stelât te gnot di Sant Lurinç

A newspaper article published by La Vôs dai Furlans (un articul di gjornâl publicât de Vôs dai Furlans) reminds us of the night of Saint Lawrence (nus ricuarde de gnot di Sant Lurinç).

We read (o leìn): “There are numerous initiatives (a son cetantis lis iniziativis) carried out in Friûl for the night of Saint Lawrence (inmaneadis in Friûl pe gnot di Sant Lurinç), which, according to tradition (che, secont de tradizion), is on the tenth of August (e je ai dîs di Avost), although this year (ancje se chest an) most will be carried out (la plui part a saran inmaneadis) on the night of the ninth (vie pe gnot dai nûf), between Saturday and Sunday (tra la sabide e la domenie).” / Riferiment: La Vôs dai Furlans (edizion di cjarte, ai 8 di Avost dal 2025).

What are the activities? (Ce sono lis ativitâts?) Walks (cjaminadis), readings (leturis), shows (spetacui), and, needless to say (e, nol covente dîlu), observation of the starry sky (osservazion dal cîl stelât). The most widespread tradition (la tradizion plui slargjade) is the observation of the night sky (e je la osservazion dal cîl di gnot) for the Perseid meteor shower (pal scuam meteoric des Perseidis), which represents the tears or the sparks (che al rapresente lis lagrimis o lis faliscjis) of the martyrdom of Saint Lawrence (dal martueri di Sant Lurinç). This saint was burnt on a gridiron (chest sant al fo brusât suntune gridele) in the year two hundred and fifty-eight (tal an dusinte e cincuantevot). To be able to see the falling stars in Friûl (par rivâ a viodi lis stelis che a colin in Friûl) and so make a wish (e cussì esprimi un desideri), it is a good idea to go up the mountains (al è ben lâ su la mont), to flee the light pollution (par scjampâ l’incuinament lusorôs).

Given that I live in Montreal (par vie che o soi a stâ a Montreâl), I conclude with a photo of the St Lawrence River (o conclût cuntune foto dal flum S. Lurinç), on whose shores Montreal is found (che su lis sôs rivis si cjate Montreâl).

Il sindic di une citât in Floride al à vinçût intune competizion di spudade di sepis

Last time (la ultime volte), we read from the gospel of Mark (o vin let dal vanzeli di Marc), where the verb spudâ came up (dulà che al è saltât fûr il verp spudâ), which is to say (ven a stâi): to spit. The reading is here (la leture e je culì): Jesù al vuarìs un om sort e mut. We will continue now with this verb (o larìn indenant cumò cun chest verp), along with its nouns (dutun cui sostantîfs).

Spudâ, meaning number one (significât numar un): to spit out saliva from the mouth (butâ fûr salive de bocje). In the city (te citât), spitting in the street (sputâ par strade) is really rude (al è pardabon maleducazion). Of such a citizen (di un citadin cussì), we can say that he is a pig (o podìn dî che al è un purcit) because he behaves rudely (parcè che si compuarte in maniere maleducade) in the public spaces of the city (tai spazis publics de citât). Other examples (altris esemplis): he spat on the ground three times (al à spudât par tiere trê voltis); he spat on the sidewalk (al à spudât sul marcjepît); he spat into a snotty handkerchief (al à spudât intun façolet snacaiôs); he spat on his own fingers (al à spudât sui dêts); he spat on the other’s fingers (i à spudât sui dêts); he spat in the other’s face (i à spudât in muse).

Spudâ, meaning number two (significât numar doi): to spit out something forcefully from the mouth (butâ fûr alc de bocje cun fuarce). During the summer months (vie pai mês dal Istât), if you eat a slice of watermelon (se tu mangjis une fete di angurie), you will maybe have to spit out the seeds (tu varâs forsit di spudâ lis sepis). That said (dit chest), watermelons are often seedless now (lis anguriis dispès a son cence sepis aromai). Other examples (altris esemplis): al à spudât il tabac che al mastiave (he spat out the tobacco he was chewing); al spudave lis sepis de ue (he was spitting out the grape seeds); I quickly spat out the worm that was in the mouthful of rotten apple (o ài spudât di corse il vier che al jere tal bocon di miluç frait).

Last year (l’an passât), the mayor of a city in Florida (il sindic di une citât in Floride) won in a seed-spitting competition (al à vinçût intune competizion di spudade di sepis). The watermelon seed was spit (la sepe di angurie e je stade spudade) twenty-seven feet (par vincjesiet pîts):

To be precise (par dîle juste), Tim Marden won in the competition (Tim Marden al à vinçût inte competizion) when he was municipal commissioner (cuant che al jere comissari comunâl) of the city of Newberry (de citât di Newberry). He became mayor (al è deventât sindic) a few months back (cualchi mês indaûr). In Friulian (par furlan), the mayor of a city (il sindic di une citât) is also known as (al è ancje cognossût tant che): il prin citadin. We can say (o podìn dî): the mayor of this city (il prin citadin di cheste citât) knows how to have a little fun (al è bon di divertîsi un pôc).

Spudâ, meaning number three (significât numar trê): We can also use the verb spudâ (o podìn ancje doprâ il verp spudâ) in a figurative way (in mût figuratîf). For example (par esempli): nobody would spit on all that money (su ducj chei bêçs nissun nol spudarès parsore).

Right (ben), so much for the verb (vonde cul verp). Let’s look now at the nouns (passìn cumò ai sostantîfs). These are (chescj a son): un spudacj, une spudade, which is to say (ven a stâi): spittle. It could happen (pò dâsi) that someone takes a spittle to the face (che un al cjapi un spudacj in muse) from someone who is black with anger (di un che al è rabiôs neri). For example (par esempli), I’m just now reminded of that hospital worker (mi è vignût iniments cumò chel lavoradôr ospedalîr) who got a spittle in his face (che al à vût un spudacj in muse) from a patient who was fed up (di un pazient che al jere sustât) with the long wait (pe lungje spiete). Other examples (altris esemplis): careful not to step in that spit (atent di no pescjâ chel spudacj); my new proposal was just spat on (la mê gnove propueste e à vût indaûr dome spudadis); il sassin al à molât un spudacj, che di chel l’espert de sene dal crimin al à podût tirâ fûr il DNA dal om (the murderer let out a spit, from which the crime scene expert was able to extract the DNA of the man). DNA: di-ene-a.

Vanzeli di Marc VII: Jesù al vuarìs un om sort e mut

Praised be Jesus Christ! (Laudât seial Jesù Crist!) In the gospel of Mark (tal vanzeli di Marc), Jesus heals a man (Jesù al vuarìs un om) who is deaf and mute (che al è sort e mut). To do so (par fâ chel tant), Jesus puts his fingers into the man’s ears (Jesù i met i dêts tes orelis), then he spits on his own fingers (po al spude sui dêts) and touches the man’s tongue (e i tocje la lenghe). These things happen in chapter seven of the gospel (chestis robis a sucedin tal cjapitul siet dal vanzeli), where the evangelist Mark tells us so (dulà che il vanzelist Marc nus conte cussì):

[T 5:45] They brought {to Jesus} (i puartarin {a Jesù}) a deaf and dumb man (un om sort e mut) and besought him (e lu prearin) to put his hands on the man’s head (di metii lis mans sul cjâf). So he (alore lui), after having taken him aside (dopo di vêlu tirât in bande), away from the crowd (lontan de fole), put his fingers in the man’s ears (i metè i dêts tes orelis) and (e), with his own saliva (cu la salive), touched the man’s tongue (i tocjà la lenghe); then he lifted his eyes to heaven (po al alçà i vôi viers dal cîl), sighed (al suspirà) and said (e al disè): Efatà, which means (che al vûl dî): Be opened (vierziti). And immediately his ears were opened (e a colp lis sôs orelis si vierzerin) and the knot of his tongue was unknotted (e il grop de lenghe si disgropà), so that he spoke right (si che al fevelave benon). {Jesus} commanded them to tell no one of it ({Jesù} ur comandà di no dîjal a di nissun); but the more he forbade them it (ma plui lui ur al inibive), the more they published it (e plui lôr lu publicavin); and at the height of astonishment (e tal colm de maravee), they said (a disevin): He hath done all things well (al à fat propit dut ben). He maketh the deaf to hear (al fâs sintî i sorts) and the dumb to speak (e fevelâ i muts).

—Vanzeli di Marc VII,32-37

It must be remembered that (si à di visâsi che), in the gospels (tai vanzelis), the simple past is used (al ven doprât il passât sempliç): al alçà, al suspirà, al disè... and so on (e cussì vie). But in everyday language (ma tal lengaç di ogni dì), we use the recent past (o doprìn il passât prossim) to speak of those things which have already happened (par fevelâ di chês robis che a son za sucedudis): al à alçât, al à suspirât, al à dit, al à vuarît, al à metût, si son vierts/vierzûts...

Final reflection (riflession finâl):

he spat on his own fingers (al à spudât sui dêts)
he spat on the other’s fingers (i à spudât sui dêts)

Gnove Scozie: Improibizion di cjaminâ tal bosc, multe pesantone

Let’s go now to Nova Scotia (anìn cumò in Gnove Scozie), a Canadian province (une provincie canadese), to continue with the Friulian language (par lâ indenant cu la lenghe furlane). The Nova Scotia government (il guvier de Gnove Scozie) has recently banned (al à improibît che nol è tant) public forest access (l’acès dal public tai boscs) due to the risk of fires (par vie dal risi di fûcs) brought on by hot and dry conditions (provocâts des cundizions cjaldis e secjis).

The restrictions (lis restrizions), which will remain in effect until the fifteenth of October (che a restaran in vore fin ai cuindis di Otubar) or until conditions improve (o fin che no van in miôr lis cundizions), prohibit hiking, camping, fishing (a improibissin escursions, camping, pescje) and the use of all-terrain vehicles (e l’ûs dai quad) in the woods of Nova Scotia (tai boscs de Gnove Scozie). All these activities are prohibited (dutis chestis ativitâts a son improibidis) not only on the public grounds of the province (no dome sui terens publics de provincie) but also on private ones (ma ancje su chei privâts). Violators will have to pay (i trasgressôrs a varan di paiâ) a very hefty twenty-five thousand dollar fine (une multe pesantone di vincjecinc mil dolars).

Critics have opposed the measures (i critics ur àn fat cuintri aes misuris), which they see as a climate lockdown (tignintlis par un lockdown climatic) reminiscent of covid restrictions (che al ricuarde lis restrizions dal covid).

Let’s speak now of open-air activities (fevelìn cumò di ativitâts tal aiar libar), but especially of those named above (ma soredut di chês nomenadis chi sore). In Friulian (par furlan), we can say (o podìn dî): I walked along the trail (o ài cjaminât daûr dal troi), he has gone out for a walk in the woods (al è lât fûr a fâ une cjaminade tal bosc), he slipped during a hike (al è sbrissât dilunc di une escursion), I want to go fishing (o ài voie di lâ a pescje), he has gone to the woods for firewood (al è lât tal bosc par fâ lens), we went camping in the mountains (o sin lâts a fâ camping in mont), let’s pitch our tent by the lake (plantìn la nestre tende dongje dal lât).

To conclude (par concludi), let’s return now (tornìn cumò) to the subject of Nova Scotia (al teme de Gnove Scozie). Typical of this province (tipic di cheste provincie) is the lighthouse (al è il fâr). Lighthouses illuminate the coasts (i fârs a iluminin lis cuestis) for seamen (pai navigants). The red and white stripes (lis strichis rossis e blancjis) of the lighthouse above (dal fâr chi sore) make it stand out (lu fasin risaltâ) against the background of the sky (cuintri dal fonts dal cîl).

No stait a lassâ lis clâfs sot dal netepîts, mi racomandi

Let’s learn now (imparìn cumò) even more words related to the robberies (ancjemò plui peraulis leadis cu lis robariis) that occur in Friûl (che a sucedin in Friûl). You can read (si pues lei) the latest news (lis ultimis gnovis) regarding the salami robbers (a rivuart dai laris di salams) who targeted a restaurant (che a àn cjapât di smire un ristorant) by clicking here (fracant culì): Daitmi i salams o i copi duçus!

In Vildivar (a Vildivar), robbers entered a house (i laris a son jentrâts intune cjase), stealing two watches (puartant vie doi orlois) and gold jewellery (e zoiis di aur) worth three thousand and five hundred euros (par un valôr di trê mil e cinccent euros). Unfortunately (magari cussì no), the criminals did not have to work too hard (i delincuents no àn scugnût lavorâ masse) because the keys had been left (parcè che lis clâfs a jerin stadis lassadis) under the doormat (sot dal netepîts). When the owner got back home (cuant che il proprietari al è tornât cjase), the entire house was upsidedown (dute la cjase e jere sotsore). / Riferiment: La Vôs dai Furlans.

In Udin (a Udin), a wheelchair was stolen (une carocele e je stade puartade vie) but later found (ma cjatade plui indenant) thanks to a citizen (in graciis di un citadin) who had spoken of a suspicious place (che al veve fevelât di un lûc suspiet) not far from the robbery (pôc lontan de robarie). The wheelchair was found (la carocele e je stade cjatade) in good condition (in buinis cundizions) in that very place (propit in chel lûc), along with other items of value (dutun cun altre robe di valôr). / Riferiment: La Vôs dai Furlans.

Not far from Pulfar (pôc lontan di Pulfar), a sculpture was targeted by robbers (une sculture e je stade cjapade di smire dai laris). The work of art (la opare di art) was two metres tall (e jere alte doi metris) and weighed seventeen quintals (e pesante disesiet cuintâi). The crooks came with a tractor (i malvivents a son rivâts cuntun tratôr) and tried to steal the sculpture (e a àn cirût di puartâ vie la sculture), worth sixty thousand euros (dal valôr di sessante mil euros). Given its enormous weight (viodût il pês enormi), the sculpture was moved (la sculture e je stade movude) by only thirty centimetres (di dome trente centimetris). / Riferiment: La Vôs dai Furlans.

un cuintâl (1 q) = cent chilos (100 kg)
disesiet cuintâi (17 q) = mil e sietcent chilos (1.700 kg)

Daitmi i salams o i copi duçus! Laris a puartin vie salams par 70 euros di valôr

Give me the salami or I’ll kill everybody! (Daitmi i salams o i copi duçus!)

Last year (l’an passât), in Pontebe (a Pontebe), thieves robbed a restaurant (i laris a àn robât intun ristorant). What did they steal? (Ce àno puartât vie?) Salami worth seventy euros (salams par setante euros di valôr) and thirty euros in banknotes (e trente euros di biliets di bancje).

A salame on the cutting board (un salam sul taulîr):

A Friulian journalist said about it (su chel cont un gjornalist furlan al à dit): “Once upon a time (une volte) we used to speak of ‘chicken robbers’ (si fevelave di laris di poleçs) when we wanted to say (cuant che si voleve dî) that someone was a petty criminal (che al jere un delincuent di pôc), but maybe from now on (ma forsit di doman) we can call them ‘salami robbers’ (o podarìn clamâju laris di salams).” / Riferiment: La Vôs dai Furlans.

Fear not (nuie pôre): in reality (te realtât), the robbers did not threaten to kill anybody (i laris no àn menaçât di copâ nissun)... they just wanted to go on a picnic (a volevin dome fâ un ghiringhel) with top-quality salami (cun salams di prime cualitât)!

Chei mosaiciscj furlans che a àn fat biel un museu canadês

In the thirties (tai agns trente) of the last century (dal secul passât), amongst the Friulian immigrants in Canada (tra i imigrâts furlans in Canadà) were numerous experts (a jerin cetancj esperts) in the marble, mosaic and terrazzo sectors (tai setôrs dal marmul, dal mosaic e dal teraç). A group of Friulian artisans (un grup di artesans furlans) made the first large-scale mosaic in Canada (a àn fat il prin mosaic su grande scjale in Canadà). It is found in Toronto, at the Royal Ontario Museum (si cjatilu a Toronto, tal Museu Reâl dal Ontario), where a glittering mosaic (dulà che un mosaic slusint) embellishes the vaulted ceiling (al fâs biel il sofit a volt) of the east-facing entrance (de jentrade che e cjale a soreli jevât).

The chief mosaicist was Ciro Mora from Secuals (il cjâf mosaicist al jere Ciro Mora di Secuals), a Friulian city (une citât furlane) with a centuries-long tradition (cuntune tradizion viere di secui) in the mosaic sector (tal setôr dal mosaic). The second artisan (il secont artesan) was Antonio Dell’Angela from Pocec di Bertiûl (al jere Antonio Dell’Angela di Pocec di Bertiûl). The third artisan (il tierç artesan) was Marino Colonello from San Zuan di Cjasarse (al jere Marino Colonello di San Zuan di Cjasarse), a Spilimberc-trained mosaicist (un mosaicist formât a Spilimberc). The last group of collaborators (l’ultin grup di colaboradôrs) were the De Carli brothers from Darbe (a jerin i fradis De Carli di Darbe). / Riferiment: ROM.

On the right (a drete), Ciro Mora:

Tai agns trente dal secul passât, tra i imigrâts furlans in Canadà a jerin cetancj esperts tai setôrs dal marmul, dal mosaic e dal teraç. Un grup di artesans furlans a àn fat il prin mosaic su grande scjale in Canadà. Si cjatilu a Toronto, tal Museu Reâl dal Ontario, dulà che un mosaic slusint al fâs biel il sofit a volt de jentrade che e cjale a soreli jevât.

Il cjâf mosaicist al jere Ciro Mora di Secuals, une citât furlane cuntune tradizion viere di secui tal setôr dal mosaic. Il secont artesan al jere Antonio Dell’Angela di Pocec di Bertiûl. Il tierç artesan al jere Marino Colonello di San Zuan di Cjasarse, un mosaicist formât a Spilimberc. L’ultin grup di colaboradôrs a jerin i fradis De Carli di Darbe. 

Tragjicomedie: Chest fusîl al è la uniche arme che o ài cun me, dentri al è dome un colp [2]

A bit of tragicomedy (un pôc di tragjicomedie) in Friulian (par furlan), second part (part seconde):

Chest fusîl al è la uniche arme ch’o ài cun me. Dentri al è dome un colp. E chel colp al è pal gno obietîf. Nissun al à di impaçâsi tra me e il gno obietîf. -Ch’al mi scusi se mi impaci, ma o vin un probleme cu la sô cjamare. -Ce probleme? -Mi displâs. Vuê al è un bordel cun chê manifestazion e chel altri client... -Chel altri cui? -O ài prenotade la cjamare trê setemanis fa, e o varès la precedence. -Ma ce precedence e precedence! Jo o soi chi za di miezore. Cheste e je la uniche precedence. Lui al pos vê prenotât un an fa, dîs agns fa. Nol interesse nie a di nissun. -A mi mi interesse. O ài prenotade la cjamare trê setemanis fa e cumò... -Sì, chest lu sai. Se Lui mi jude, i cjatìn une soluzion. -O ài capît cuale che e je la soluzion. La soluzion e je chê di parâmi fûr di ca. E jo o ài ancje di judâLu? Aio ancje di dâmi une pidade tal cûl? Jo o ài prenotade la cjamare trê setemanis fa, al è pôc di discuti, o ài reson e vonde, parcè che jo o ài prenotât... -Vonde! -O stoi vignint fûr di un grâf esauriment. Si à di tratâmi ben... cocolâmi...

This rifle is the only weapon I have with me. There’s only one shot in it. And that shot is for my target. No one must interfere between me and my target. -Excuse me if I’m interfering, but we have a problem with your room. -What problem? -I’m sorry. Today is a mess with that event and the other customer… -The other who? -I booked the room three weeks ago, and I should have priority. -Priority, my foot! I’ve already been here for half an hour. That’s the only priority. You could have booked a year ago, ten years ago. It doesn’t matter to anyone. -It matters to me. I booked the room three weeks ago, and now… -Yes, I know that. If you help me, we’ll find a solution. -I’ve figured out what the solution is. The solution is to kick me out of here. And I’m supposed to help you too? Should I also give myself a kick in the arse? I booked the room three weeks ago, there’s little to discuss, I’m right and that’s it, because I booked… -Enough! -I’m coming out of a nervous breakdown. I have to be treated well… cuddled...

« Part 1

Om cjatât cence sintiments, al è stât tirât sot di un pirate de strade

On the night of the twenty-fourth of July (vie pe gnot dai vincjecuatri di Lui), an unconscious man (un om cence sintiments) was found along the road (al è stât cjatât dilunc de strade) in Pordenon (a Pordenon). He was taken to hospital (al è stât puartât in ospedâl), where he died a short time after (dulà che al è muart pôc timp dopo).

The autopsy has confirmed (la autopsie e à confermât) that the man had been run over by a vehicle (che l’om al jere stât tirât sot di un veicul), the driver of which drove off (che il so vuidadôr si è slontanât) without helping the victim (cence judâ la vitime). The hit-and-run driver (il pirate de strade) has not been identified (nol è stât identificât). / Riferiment: La Vôs dai Furlans.

Om cence sintiments, vitime di un pirate de strade:

In Friulian (par furlan), a ‘road pirate’ (un pirate de strade) is a driver (al è un vuidadôr) who does not stop to help (che no si ferme a judâ) after having caused an accident (daspò di vê fat un incident). Such a driver (un vuidadôr cussì) drives dangerously (al vuide in maniere pericolose) and is also often drunk (e al è ancje dispès cjoc).

What we can say (ce che o podìn dî) of a driver who drives too quickly (di un vuidadôr che al vuide masse svelt) is that he drives ‘at full beer’ (al è che al vuide a dute bire), which is to say (ven a stâi), that he drives at a crazy speed (che al vuide a velocitât mate).

Mari dal fi fat a tocs: e à doprât un seghet di fier e un bleon par tignî il sanc

We read a few days back (o vin let cualchi dì indaûr) that a mother from Glemone (che une mari di Glemone) killed her thirty-five-year-old son (e à copât il fi di trentecinc agns) and dismembered him (e lu à fat a tocs): Om copât e fat a tocs.

The mother has declared (la mari e à declarât) that it was she (di jessi stade jê) who killed her son (a copâ il fi). First she sedated him (prime lu à bonât), po lu à scjafoiât (then she strangled him) using shoelaces (doprant lis coreis des scarpis) and cut him into three pieces (e lu à sezionât in trê tocs) with an iron hacksaw (cuntun seghet di fier) and a bedsheet to contain the blood (e un linzûl par tignî il sanc).

The mother has said (la mari e à dit): “I used a hacksaw (o ài doprât un seghet) and a bedsheet to contain the blood (e un bleon par tignî il sanc) and I cut him up into three pieces (e lu ài taiât in trê tocs): there were no splatters of blood (scliçs di sanc no ’nd è stâts), so that’s why the carabinîrs found everything in order (par chest i carabinîrs a àn cjatât dut in ordin).”

The body was then put (podopo il cuarp al à stât metût) into a bin in the garage (intun bidon tal garage). The mother related (la mari e à contât) that she had acted with the intention of waiting (che e veve agjît cun chê di spietâ) until the remains had decomposed (che i rescj si fruiassin) and then leaving them in the mountains (par dopo abandonâju in mont).

The plan fell through (il plan al è sfumât) when her son’s Colombian companion (cuant che la compagne colombiane dal fi) rang 112 (e à clamât il 112), telling the carabinîrs (disintjur ai carabinîrs) that it had been the very son’s mother who killed him (che e jere stade la mari stesse dal fi a copâlu). / Riferiments: Telefriuli e La Vôs dai Furlans.

To listen (par scoltâ): il telegjornâl par furlan.