Category Archives: Tengoko (en)

Waynu ozguim kewayos – A text in Tengoko

Less than a month ago, I posted the translation of a medieval Spanish ballad in (Eastern) Efenol. Now, I’m going to post the very same text: the Romance/Ballad of the Lover and Death (Romance del Enamorado y la Muerte). Is that cheating? I hope it’s not 😉

This time, however, I wrote it in an unrelated language, my dear Tengoko. Unlike Efenol (which was based on Spanish thus easing the translation of an Spanish text), Tengoko is an a priori* conlang, (a language constructed without major influences of others). That leaves room for more innovation and use of creativity… some of the best parts of conlanging! So, I’m confident you won’t mind the fact I’m reusing a text in just a few weeks time 😉
*Most of Tengoko vocabulary was just invented but there are some borrowings here and there, so some may say it’s not a “pure” a priori language.

Here it comes:

– Wibamir Kirirze o Suyemir –

Waynu ozguim kewayos;
beng wayir keruqar.
Keway kewibaar
i weyim kewados.

Widos bak ne i imerrut,
bakus i kop kyozair.
– Simin saimer Wib zurutos,
simin zurutos, kenaq?
Hatair mehatyay ze
tanritair serosiaze.
– Mo Wib keyi, wibam,
Kirir keyi, Qazirar.
– Zu Kirir, suryemmewi
naqdekyoq ke hinnuim!
– Hinnu mo yideker,
kip ton zunaq sakoar.

Ngoyay kaqnok rye kaqer,
ze yayus rinokos.
Rirutay kerirer
yim rye wibne yos.

– Hatyoq sahatir Bakey!
Hatyoq sahatir, kengayir!
– Simin kehater zuer
su yim raw koir?
Keto mo rutos ryankerer,
kema mo zwisay.
– Zu mo keer hateray
nar zu hater mokoim.
Kirir keruq rihyeay.
Zay zuwi naqyerde!
– Rutyoq tanritirer
yim kenoknuwazos.
Kezoqer zersumnu
yer sawi zunirrut.
Zersumir mo ngorde
nar kezosa marerde.

Nyumewi zerir keway.
Kirir, saer rutay:
– Rutyoq, zu wibam
kip ton rutosay.

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Many countries, many conlangs

Some days ago, I started to translate the names of every single country in the world to four of my conlangs. It was rather a hard task… and a long one, there are so many countries out there! Nonetheless, it was a really interesting translation exercise. I also decided to include the names of the continental landmasses, some territories in dispute as well as the word for Earth itself. A full toponyms guide for alternative-word journalists 😉

I chose four conlangs which different ways o dealing with country names. The first one is Efenol. It’s based on Spanish, and so are its toponyms. However, many of them have been modified so much that it’s hard to recognize them (like Wân which bears little resemblance with “Uganda”). The second one is Inlush which, just as the former, is also based on an actual language (English), but sometimes with hardly recognizable results (who would say that Vanatu would end up being Fanwetó?). Then it comes Romanice. It’s a clearly Romance-based conlang and most toponyms are similar to those of other languages (Corea del Sur is also Spanish for South Korea, whereas Istati Uniti is almost Italian for US). The last conlang I chose is Tengoko, a mainly a priori language. Most Tengoko toponyms are based on the pronunciation of the name in the local language, with some exceptions such as Nuyem-Ryan’gek (Union Kingdom) for the United Kingdom.

(The list is after the read more tag)

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Words, curious words

One of the best things about conlanging lies on the possibility of making words whose meaning can’t be mapped exactly to a single word in other languages. Today, I’ll talk to you about two such words I’ve got to like a lot.

Theng-thun noun sáāthengen /saː˧˥tʰeŋ˧en˧/ is one of my favorite words among all my conlangs. It refers to the unconscious changing of topic during a conversation. It’s something that happens to everyone. You start chatting with some friends about something and, after a while, you are no longer talking about it but about a seemingly unrelated! Furthermore, it’s hard to recall exactly how you ended up talking about that. That’s saāthengen about.

The word literally means something like “far-speaking” (sáā = far, theng = speak, en is a suffix for making abstract nouns), symbolizing how the speakers get farther and farther from the original topic.

This word could also be applied to the Wikipedia Effect which happens when you click on links on Wikipedia’s articles until you arrive to an article that doesn’t seem related at all with the initial one. But I should better not talk about this… I should focus on this post’s topic… so as not to fall into sáāthengan.

Lisnäit verb tïdauro is another interesting word. It means to try to do good things though with bad results. A good example would be when someone wants to help but ends up bothering (even though they don’t mean it). There are also a pair of related nouns: tïdära for these actions and tïdoramäna for the clumsy good-willed people who often do this. No one would be particularly happy on being called a tïdoramäna, but it’s neither an insult 😉

A piece of Tonoryu

Unless you aret deep into Russian folk songs, chances are that you’ve never heard of one called Korobeiniki (which means peddlers or travelling salesmen who sold fabrics, singular Korobeinik). It’s much less probable that you ever heard or read its lyrics by Russian writer Nikolay Nekrasov! However… you’re almost sure to have listened to its melody and probably remember it well, because it’s the most famous (instrumental) song of one of the most popular video-games ever: it’s Tetris type-A music (this is the melody).

Some days ago, I arrived by chance to Wikipedia’s article about this song. There I found some curious information about its origins, it’s lyrics (I didn’t even know it had lyrics before then) in Russian and, fortunately (since I speak no Russian) an English translation. It was about a peddler and her girlfriend. It really appealed to me, so I looked for the song (the original song, as sung in Russian) in the Internet but, to my disappointment, I didn’t like it so much. Anyway, the lyrics (at least their meaning) were good and I decided to translate it to one of my conlangs. Tonoryu, which descends from Tengoko, another conlang of mine, seemed to be the perfect target-language.

Note: This is not a literal translation.

Korobeinika – Nusåmur

O! Kebajem bade no;
Kevade borokåtå tse chintsia.
Vajee pon, tsu sur iney,
Kudåwror o sa yunuu!

Korutor dus nir benraskena
Tse keseker jamir.
Kowm kevider iney’e ku rita,
Keviddevajer reyer res i kevade.

No rin kevades saer,
Saar, mo sejee vad nii.
Konvåjee keer saf tsibapa
Tse rutoo konus sa yunuuor!

Panirbakwi jamirar ay såruto,
Yunuur i riseje no, riseke.
Sedee! Rey saye! Iney veyar rurutos!
Tse nusåmur nus ryomonå.

Katya sjee pon rinneni.
Ri mo seje vad uj.
Yunuu e bapa take rye ineyar
Tse ritene nirus rinneer.

Nur gu jamir savije
Noå i tokum ratenes.
Nirer rutoo, tsu benraskena!
Nuboo renaer rae nuddon!

O! Kebajem bade nii!
Kokudåwr pon ay sayo.
Tse monåj i keiney tases
Nur sjumårnu san tunnuhu sayo.

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Even though I really enjoy writing stories (as well as some poems from time to time), I (almost) never write in my conlangs (I have done it with other’s though). I’d never really realised that contradiction (?) before I read a thread about con-literature in one of Facebook’s Conlang group, which made me want to write something new (instead of simple translations as I often do) in my own languages. I decided for Tengoko (/te’ŋo.ko/) to write it in since it is the conlang I feel most comfortable to use (with the exception of the conlangs based on my native Spanish). This poem/song was the result:

Poem in Tengoko (Kar script)

Tengoko song in old Kar characters (a heavily Chinese-influenced conscript constructed specially for Tengoko and its 'daughter languages')

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