Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Loved Ones (Nírr Unofaet)

Nirr Unofaet:

Ína sa sohm'ílíà-ésai, sa eo pérél

Ína sa péré-ésai,

Sohm-ílíà sa eo-tsel

Ína yòan sa ésai okà,

Nú dò'sésst sa eo-tsel

Ína sa ukhírí-ésai,

Daòtis sa sésst'ard sa eo-tsel.

Fey ína sa baorú,

H'ennjia tí sa rhyjia'lt eo síet'urú.


English:

Loved Ones:
When I want to sleep, you wake me up
When I want to wake up,
You tell me to go back to sleep
When I want to utilize my work ethic
You tell me that there is no need for it.
When I want to procrastinate,
You tell me I need to work.
And when I am cold,
You find a way to make me warm.

Monday, January 6, 2014

Conversational Dwilekan

Nnn. Valné. Íà. (Um. Okay. Ah.) I decided to try some conversational Dwilekan, mostly because I wanted to write poetry but was too lazy to create anything good that would rhyme in one and a half languages.

Names I will use for this dialogue (Vae vímit dòmu'là sa liún-túvu):
  • Galaí-leth (female): by which light [appears]
  • Vae'sí-siet (male): to search [the/for] stars
À Vímit:
G: "Salwae, Vae'sí!"
         Hello, Vae'si!
V: "Saloneo! Éo umà oka?"
       Hello! How are you?
G: "Valò, sa oka! Valò, umà-gen-àrà oka! Fey éo?"
       I'm good! School is good! And you?
V: "Nnn...dò-valò, dò-valò!"
         Um...not good, not good.
G: "Érét! Àrà?"
         Oh no! Why?
V: "Zen ismén, sa oka."
         I am very tired. 
G: "Íà, sa j'sàrà. Zaení perù; sohm-ilíà!"
      Ah, I understand. Go home; sleep!
V: "Valné, sa tuvù. Valo'ré, Galaí!"
      Okay, I will. Good-bye, Galaí-leth!

And the same dialogue, in approximate Chinese, 因为我可以。

G: Vae'si, 你好!
V: 你好!你怎么样?
G: 我不错,学校不错。你呢?
V: 啊,我不好。
G: 糟糕!为什么?
V: 因为我很累了。
G: 啊,我懂你。去家;睡觉!
V: 行,我要。Galaí, 再见!

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Basic Grammar

Word order:

Word order will be Object-Subject-Verb (OSV) most of the time. Dwilekan relies quite a bit on word order, but there are exceptions to every rule.

A simple sentence (informal) looks like this: Hu quoren ko'oka. He is a butt, or literally, "a butt he is." Lecture me about Yoda-speak later. It was an accident, I swear, and by the time I realized, I had brought the language too far along to change it.
The article precedes the subject. If you want to transition into slang (and let's be fair; when calling somebody a butt, one only ever really says it colloquially), you can omit said article, leaving only "Quoren ko'oka."

Forms:

There are three forms of spoken and written language: informal, formal, and poetic.

The formal form (literally "diplomacy language," or na'hona'tylakhenod vímít) was designed to be spoken by leaders and heads of state to make lying more difficult. The words often have more syllables, and contractions are not permitted. If you have to concentrate on every word emerging from your mouth, it is difficult to add a lie to that complexity. At least, that was the thinking.

The very word "diplomacy" illustrates the effect of this form the best:

Formal: na'hona'tylakhenod (to stop genocide)
Poetic: na'hona'rien (to stop war)
Informal: do'rien (the absence of war).

The poetic form (literally "poetry language," or líara vímít) is used exclusively in--you guessed it--poetry, though it is sometimes used if one is addressing a lover, teacher, or a great master of the written or spoken word. Literature can be written in any of the forms, but poetry is usually written in this form.

The future tense is a suffix that is only slightly impacted by the three forms:

Formal: -túvu
Poetic: -túru
Informal: -túvù (the final "u" cuts off in this form, creating what sounds more like an extended "v" with the slightest "u" still attached. It is difficult to transliterate.)

The informal form (literally "speaking language," or jae-ín vímít) is the casual, conversational form. One would use this form when speaking with people equal in age/position/status to oneself, or with people met in a casual setting, such as in the dining hall at school, at the market, or on the road.

A word of warning: some words will be the same in two or more forms. For example:

Formal: elovár (tree)
Poetic: elovár (tree)
Informal: k'sovár (tree)

When this occurs, use context, situation, and contractions/lack thereof to identify the form in use.

Verb Tense:

Present-tense is simple: leave the verbs exactly as they are, meaning exactly as I give them to you. I will give examples in this post with the following verbs:

To be: okà
To do: àrd
To make: rhyjiàn


Past-tense is a little harder. The suffix will vary depending on the final letter of the verb (vowel or consonant), the form being used, and whether or not the subject/object is/are plural.

To be (past): okáth
To do: árdéln
To make: rhyjiàn'é

The past-tense suffixes are as follows:

a/e/ae/o/: -th
b/p/g/d/k: -éln
m/n/l: -'é

I know I need more. I'll post them when I have them.

Philosophy and Understanding:

Here, have a random word as we transition to the more philosophical piece of this language.

Rísa: ocean

If you've been paying attention, you'll catch the two parts. Rí = water, and sa = me/I/self. Thus, this word, ocean, literally translates to water-self. Which, admittedly, is a little strange. But it has another, deeper meaning. It means the whole of the water (water-whole). This directly implies that the self is unbroken, that the self is whole. Isn't that a little bit beautiful?

Dwilekan is riddled with these dual literal translations. Why? Because I put them there. They add complexity, culture, and character, and they make it easier to use the same root in dozens of different ways.

Take, for instance, the root -àrà. Literally, and on its own, it means "knowledge," but it also means "why."

Glíríàrà: physics

  • glírí-: universe
  • -àrà: knowledge/why


Now you're in a bit of dilemma, do-eo'oka (are you not)? Is it universe-why, or is it universe-knowledge? You tell me. It's open to interpretation and argument. The best poems have many different meanings, and I am developing this language almost exclusively through poetry.

Àrà: knowledge
Àrà: why
Glíríàrà: physics
Zae-àrà: biology (life-why/knowledge)
Sietàrà: the search for knowledge (also the name of Dwileka's most prominent university)
Àràsíleth: imagination (thought-starlit)
Àrànmí: wonderful

Just a handful of the ways -àrà can be used in Dwilekan.






I Walk, No One Sees (Sà try'ò, Do'nírr mat)

Sà try’ò, do’nírr mat

À véiu, tà de‘mra
Kae hassié, tí by’à
Fey sà zen l’wen okà

I walk, no one sees.
The wind, it barely breathes.
Like gossamer, it rests,
And I am very blessed.


Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Crucial Verbs

Informal:

To be: okà
To make: rhyjiàn
To do: àrd
To go: perùn
To say: jae

To be (past): okàth
To make (past): rhyjiàn-é
To do (past): àrd-éln
To go (past): perùn-é
To say (past): jaeth

To be (future): okà-tùvù
To make (future): rhyn-tùvù
To do (future): àrd-tùvù
To go (future): perùn-tùvù
To say (future): jae-tùvù

Poetic:

For present, see informal
For past, see informal

To be (future): okà-tùru
To make (future): rhyn-tùru
To do (future): àrd-tùru
To go (future): perùn-tùru
To say (future): jae-tùru

Formal:

For present, see informal
For past, see informal

To be (future): okà-tùvu
To make (future): rhyn-tùvu
To do (future): àrd-tùvu
To go (future): perùn-tùvu
To say (future): jae-tùvu





Friday, June 7, 2013

Names and Meanings:

Aelaah-tin: [in the Kor language, more on that later] Knowledge of Life
Arayorn Catachi: Knowlede-Finder Ruler
Halia: [in the ancient Apelbusan, more on this later as well] Water
Kir-sa Catachi: High-One Ruler [literally: High am I]
Myira-sí: [in Diwi, which is like pidgin Dwilekan] Ice-bird
Rubà-sí: [see above on Diwi] Fire-bird
Siri-dan: Star-Water Scorch [literally: Rainstorm]

The Aftermath (À Deran'in)

Dwilekan:

Sring Tal'íleth
À quarabeth
Tú béla dòbé fey rí kadeth
À rísen rubà
Taranath dhoya
Aià zíren Cayar dol'ru seth.

So'ar à dhorne
Rí-ra à arne
À tú-rubà'o-sonnlà rubà'o wron
Kí'ha plú'oka
Evair'ai oka
Fey kél, dí'er à gweyven oka.

À'elovar òn
Fey òno thròn
Plú sòno imranlà yà dwíl evair yi'on
Han ma'ev zell
Feyodhrèn zell
Eranlà tí sòno fey ràn skyli'òn.

À deran'in
Tú fíní'l thro'in
Tú expas charr dan fey hron ev'ín
Tú bosen twylà
Fey zell'o lylal
Srae yà pílon tú-ríen sky'lon kri'egin.

English:

Clear moonlit sky
A lullaby
Of songs unsung and wells run dry
The river fire
Vanished desire
For brazen mountains yet unclimbed.

The silver fields
The rain-wet steel
The flaming flowers' burning zeal
High overhead
The stones are dead
And down below, the smoke is real.

The willows bend
And broken, end
O'er shattered hearts* borne by dead friends
Too many gone
Forever gone
Ghosts left behind to tear and rend.

The aftermath
Of ended paths
Of land scorched black and dying fast
Of gaping holes
And empty soles
Scourged bleak by battle's lasting wrath.

* "Hearts" here doesn't mean "hearts" in the conventional, emotional sense, though that could be one interpretation. When it says "shattered hearts," it literally means the destroyed heartstones of fallen comrades.

Literal Translation:

Clear Talis-lit sky
A lullaby
Of songs not sung and water now dry
The river fire
Vanished desire
For brazen Cayor not yet climbed.

Silver the fields
Water-wet the metal
The of-flaming-flowers fiery passion
High above-is
Dead stones are
And below, real the smoke is.

The trees bend
And broken, end
Over shattered heartstones by friends dead borne
Too many gone
Forever gone
Ghosts to shatter and rend staying.

The aftermath
Of ended paths
Of land black scorched and fast dying
Of gaping holes
And empty(ing) souls
Bleak by wrath of-battle lasting scourged.