Lexember 2018

For Lexember I focused on my most developed language, Keševan. Here is a list of the thirty-five words I made in the month of December, with phonetic transcription and some etymological/derivational explanation.

Verbs are listed with their two principal parts. A noun followed by “-u” is a noun that forms its singular genitive in -u, a small and irregular class of nouns. It also seems that this font makes certain tildes look like macrons—all “macrons” are tildes in my phonetic transcriptions, i.e. they mark nasalized vowels.

Since Keševan is my oldest serious conlang, it is also my most standardly European one. This can be seen below in e.g. verbal prefixes derived from prepositions.

  1. samba [ˈsãm.ba] n. ‘chicken’, from Rasal samba. Goes back to Proto-Borvic and has cognates in many other languages.
  2. kombla [ˈkõm.bla] adj. ‘stony’, derived from kom ‘stone’ plus the very common derivational adjectival suffix -la/-al (the allomorphs depend on stress and phonotactics). In kombla, an epenthetic -b- intrudes between m and l. This type of epenthesis is very common between nasals and liquids.
  3. iašta [ˈjaɕ.ta] adj. ‘juicy’, from iáš ‘juice’ plus a different adjectival suffix.
  4. ravóig [raˈvojɣ] n. ‘pier, dock’, comes ultimately from vok ‘land, earth’. The prefix ra- simply means ‘to, toward’. Historically, the word had the suffix -ga, which is a highly productive nominalizer that generally means ‘thing associated with the stem’. Words in -ga have wide semantic meanings, both physical things and abstractions. The historical ravokga becomes > ravoiga > ravóig.
  5. udevunga [u.deˈvõn.ga] n. ‘fastener’. Note that nasals are not velarized before velars. Here is another example of -ga, here added to the verb udevupse, udevumo ‘fasten’, itself from ude- ‘through the middle, centrally, or emphatically’ and fupse, fumo ‘touch’.
  6. demne [ˈdẽm.ne] n. ‘masses’, from dem ‘many’ plus a collective nominalizer -ne.
  7. razalga [ra.ˈzal.ga] n. ‘avenue’ (perhaps a more recent in-world addition to the lang). This word is built up very similarly to ravóig It has a -ga suffix and as part of the stem it has a ra- from the verb razaûze, razalo ‘approach’. Thus a razalga is a means of approach.
  8. tómassa [ˈtõ.ma.sa] n. ‘work, labor’, from the verb topse, tomo ‘work’ plus a suffix creating abstract nouns.
  9. elpu [ˈel.pɯ] n. ‘apple tree’, from elpa ‘apple’ and the suffix -u, which when added to certain fruits and flowers indicates the tree on which they grow, a feature I shamelessly stole from Spanish.
  10. fal, -u [fal] n. ‘gust’, a noun formed by removing the verbal endings from faûse, falo ‘blow’. Nouns formed in this manner typically have singular genitives in -u, especially when the verb belongs to the -o conjugation class.
  11. enfaûse, enfalo [ẽnˈfo:se ẽnˈfalɤ] v.t. ‘presage, foreshadow’, from the same verb as fal above with the prefix en- ‘before’.
  12. šefíl [ɕeˈfil] adj. ‘underwater’, from še- ‘under’ + fi ‘water’ + -l
  13. nuîča [ˈnwit͡ɕa] n. ‘plaque, panel; estucheon’, from nus ‘shield’ and the diminutive suffix -ča. Note that s before č completely disappeared but changed the quality of the vowel, diphtongizing it to [uj], which then shifted to [wi].
  14. dumša [ˈdõmɕa] n. ‘luxury’, orginally from the Rasal word for ‘slow’, its verbal reflex in Keševan means ‘relax’ or ‘luxuriate’. The suffix -ša is another nominalizer attached to verbal stems.
  15. eîla [ˈi:la] adj. ‘ready, prepared’. Ultimately derives from the Rasal verb éhase ‘to ride’ plus the adjectivalizer -la, which has already been encountered above, thus creating an adjective éhala meaning ‘ready to ride’, the meaning of which only broadened to mean any kind of readiness.
  16. éîlase, eîlo [ˈi:lase ˈi:lɤ] v.i. ‘get ready, prepare’, from eîla, cf. above, with the simple attachment of verbal endings.
  17. iûzunta [juˈzõnta] adj. ‘indifferent’, literally ‘not drawn (to one side)’, from a participle of zupse, zumo ‘draw, pull’ and the negative prefix il-, which is slightly disguised by sound change.
  18. čel [t͡ɕel] n. ‘part’ < Rasal. tyela, in turn from the verb tyese ‘take’ plus a nominalizing -la (homophonous with but separate from the adjectivalizing -la already seen in this list).
  19. buzatse, buzato [buˈzatse buˈzatɤ] v.t. ‘encourage’, from bu- ‘along, together, parallel’ + zatse, zato ‘push’.
  20. idrazma [iˈdrazma] adj. ‘dreary, dull’. This is a borrowing from modern Calintese, spoken on a large island south of Keševa. The Calintese language has been in contact with Keševan for millenia and huge numbers of loanwords have crossed in both directions at all stages of history. This particular word comes from drazm ‘funeral, sad, dreary’, in turn from ancient drazmi ‘deathly’, from the verb meaning ‘die’. Note that the Keševans have added i- and -a to the word since their language has little tolerance for consonant clusters on word boundaries. Fun fact: idrazma is cognate to žait ‘corpse’, borrowed centuries earlier from a Calintese word from the same deathly root.
  21. ášraîna [ˈaɕrẽna] n. ‘sight, apparition, vision” (something seen), from one of the suppletive roots of the verb ‘see’ plus the nominalizing suffix -aîna, which usually means an instance of the verb’s action.
  22. udemeûse, udemelo [udeˈmjuse udeˈmelɤ] v.t. ‘surround’, from ude- (cf. above) + mel ‘round’ + verbal suffixes.
  23. masse, mano [ˈmas:e ˈmãnɤ] v.t. ‘feel’, from a Rasal word meaning the same. A very old word.
  24. naûdra [ˈno:dra] n. ‘gladness, cheerfulness’, from nal ‘glad, cheerful’ and the nominalizing suffix -ra typically added to adjectives. Note the changes nalra > naldra > naûdra.
  25. lusavze, lusavo [luˈsavze luˈsavɤ] v.t. ‘complete, achieve’, from lu- ‘through’ + savze, savo ‘carry’.
  26. inkopse, inkomo [ẽnˈkopse ẽnˈkõmɤ] v.i. ‘freeze, petrify, turn to stone, become immobile’, from im-, a prefix that has many meanings but here indicates becoming the root, plus kom ‘stone’ and verbal endings.
  27. zav [zav] n. ‘shaft or ray of light’, from Rasal zava ‘id.’
  28. dagne [ˈdagne] n. ‘chandelier’, from dag ‘candle’ and the collective suffix -ne. The etymon of dag is an archaic verb meaning ‘to stay awake’ plus the suffix -ga, which here has lost its final vowel.
  29. halla [ˈhal:a] adj. ‘divine, godly’ from Rasal hyálala, transparently made from the root hyal- which has to do with all manner of godly things, and the adjectivalizing suffix -la.
  30. gurta [ˈgurta] adj. ‘brown’, from the passive participle of a verb meaning ‘burn’, since burnt things are darkish and brownish in color.
  31. sampevze, sampevu [sãmˈpevze sãmˈpevɯ] v.t. ‘reflect (as a mirror)’, from san- ‘after’ + pevze, pevo ‘turn back’.
  32. zeûse, zelo [ˈzjuse ˈzelɤ] v.t. ‘hope, wish’, from Rasal zélase.
  33. lunda, -u [lõnda] n. ‘birth’, from the verb lundze ‘be born’. The word is derived in the same way as fal, listed above.
  34. ošamu [oˈɕãmɯ] n. ‘cherry tree’, derived from ošám in the same way elpu is derived from elpa (see above).
  35. ošám [oˈɕãm] n. ‘cherry’. I confess I made up this word on the spot and I have no etymology for it! By its form and semantics it’s probably a borrowing.
  36. eil [ejl] n. ‘shirt’. The Calintese éyal ‘garment’ was borrowed into Rasal as éyala and the meaning narrowed.

A Dostoevsky Drinking Game

Take a drink when:

  • a son has a strained relationship with his father
  • the word “sensualism/-ity” appears
  • crosses are exchanged
  • there is a dream sequence
  • a crime is committed against a child (mentioned or actual)
  • money is refused (take an extra drink if an attempt is made to destroy the money)
  • a character has an epileptic fit
  • someone recounts watching a condemned man during the moments before his execution
  • a prostitute has a heart of gold
  • Russia’s holy world-historical mission is alluded to
  • two people of unequal station scandalously appear together
  • an allusion is made to another Russian writer (take an extra drink if it’s Pushkin, Tolstoy, or Gogol)
  • a first-person narrator reveals himself in what is otherwise third-person omniscient narration
  • false newspaper articles appear
  • the spread of modern ideology is compared to a disease
  • someone considers fighting a duel
  • a character struggles with debt (take an extra drink if it’s from gambling)
  • a character announces a lack of faith in God
  • a seemingly impoverished character has a servant (I still don’t understand the economy of the Russian Empire…)
  • a character “flies at” someone else
  • a religious conversion is finally made
  • a character has a “speaking name”

Finish your drink when:

  • a character is murdered
  • a character commits suicide
  • a child dies for any reason

Revising Klingon Orthography

I’ve been reading lately through Klingon grammar, and the orthography of the language is my only dissatisfaction with it so far. I understand that the mixed-case alphabet reminds actors that “this sound is not like English!” but its disadvantages are multiple:

1. It’s ugly.
2. There is ambiguity between capital I and lowercase l in many typefaces (such that Wikipedia, for example, has to resort to clunky textboxes). Admittedly, all potentially ambiguous cases can be clarified by the language’s phonotactics, but why should we have to fall back on phonotactics when the distinction could be more transparent in orthography?
3. It’s inconsistent. There are di-/trigraphs like ch and tlh, but other sounds also not straightforwardly written in Latin letters are transcribed with capitals: H, Q for example. These could just as easily be written as digraphs.
4. Some capitals are completely unnecessary if there is no lowercase from which they disambiguate. For example, there is a capital I, but no lowercase i.
5. The language can be difficult to write on platforms where auto-capitalization might be in effect.

So what would I change? Eliminate the capital letters, since they are the cause of most of my complaints. Where a capital does not contrast with a lowercase, then the lowercase can be used instead. Thus D I can be replaced with d i.

Likewise, H and S can be replaced by far more intuitive digraphs: kh and sh. The former should be read as /x/ by most readers of fantasy and science fiction.

Now what to do with Q? It cannot be rewritten as q, since that letter already represents the uvular plosive. Since Q represents an uvular affricate, I will rewrite it as qh, similar to ch gh sh tlh, which are also affricate or fricative.

Everything else remains, including ‘ for the glottal stop, since I think it should be relatively familiar as such from Hawaiian and romanizations of Arabic.

In summary:

b ch D gh H j l m n ng p q Q r S t tlh v w y ‘

becomes

b ch d gh kh j l m n ng p q qh r sh t tlh v w y

a e I o u

becomes

a e i o u

How does this look in practice? Let’s take the sentence ‘four thousand throats may be cut in one night by a running man’ in the original orthography:

qaStaHvIS wa’ ram loS SaD Hugh SijlaH qetbogh loD

And in my revision:

qashtakhvish wa’ ram losh shad khugh shijlakh qetbogh lod

The King and the God

In Calintese, based on this text. The god Mendu is an old Calintese deity (Mendu being his Keševan name).

Deláemo áelie. Yòdi hólpaeva.
king there-M.SG. 3-M.SG.DAT child-PL=NEG
Once there was a king. He was childless.

Deláemos ustìlie holpá. Yo ròtitie uòstelrapro:    
king=ART want-IPFV child-ACC. 3-M.SG ask-PFV-M.SG priest-DAT=REFL
The king wanted a son. He asked his priest:

“Céfo yòdi nóstoe!”
son 1SG-M.DAT birth-PASS-M.SG.IMP
“May a son be born to me!”

Uòstelso imítie deláemòdis: “Cléani aestòdis Mieddòdi.”
Priest=ART say-PFV-M.SG king-DAT=ART pray-M.SG.IMP god-DAT=ART Mendu-DAT
The priest said to the king: “Pray to the god Mendu.”

Deláemos géitie aestòdislo Mieddòdi cléanra haùvie aestòdis.
king=ART come-PFV-M.SG god-DAT=ART=to Mendu-DAT pray-INF-DAT god-DAT=ART
The king approached the god Mendu to pray now to the god.

“Lásti cú, bàvan Miéddo!”
listen-M.SG.IMP 1SG-M.ACC father Mendu
“Hear me, father Mendu!”

Áestos Mièddo géitie tlièttitiego uxàus.
god=ART Mendu come-PFV-M.SG descend-PFV-M.SG=and sky-ABL=ART
The god Mendu came down from heaven.

“Í ro ùstie?”
what 2SG-M want-M.SG
“What do you want?”

“Co ústie cefú.”
1SG-M want-M.SG son-ACC
“I want a son.”

“Ha géi,” imítie yúi aèstos Miéddo.
this-N come-N.SG.IMP say-PFV-M.SG bright-M.SG god=ART Mendu.
“Let this be so,” said the bright god Mendu.

Deláemuvas giènis nostíta cefú.
king-GEN-F.SG=ART lady=ART give.birth-PFV-F.SG son-ACC
The king’s lady bore a son.

A conlanging Odyssey

For the past couple weeks I’ve been participating in a translation challenge on the r/conlangs subreddit to translate Fitzgerald’s translation of the Odyssey, with a few new lines given every few days. (The latest post is here.)  Here is my progress so far, beginning partway through Book 1:

Yàuti yú yelé bavànco ènitie yá.
love-M.SG 3-M.SG.ACC much-INS father=1s give-PFV-M.SG 3-N.SG.ACC
My father gave it, for he loved him well.

Co ústie hìxi amattònei déyin ròsin áexi hònaye amattús.
1SG wish-M.SG this-GEN.PL man-GEN.PL-N.ACC able-INF meet-INF that-GEN.PL day-GEN.PL-M.ACC man-ACC=ART
I wish these men could meet the man of those days

Ya grieccáziae navàziaego àstorápra: uscèi alefá.
3-M.PL quick-FUT-M.PL know-FUT-M.PL=and fortune-ACC=3PL cold-N.SG.ACC bed-ACC
They would know their fortune quickly: a cold bed.

O! la aestònienis ílieni orgéansa
Ay but god-GEN.PL-F.PL.LOC=ART great-F.PL.LOC knees-PL.LOC=ART
Ay! but on the gods’ great knees

càtei yúve dèyin páyin dèxingo àstiná
lie-N.SG 3-GEN.SG-N able-INF return-INF make-INF=and outcome-ACC
lies his ability to return to force a reckoning

prùvemi hiettetí
REFL-GEN.SG-N.SG.LOC house-LOC
in his own home

Cu ru, co dexázie yèstinié plùvaedirra hiàu amattún
1SG-M.INS 2SG-M.INS 1SG make-FUT-M.SG beginning-N.PL.ACC scatter-INF-DAT this-M.PL.ACC man-PL.ACC
If I were you, I should take steps to make these men disperse

Lastí, hàuvie, tleimígo imuèis cu,
listen-IMP now heed-MP=and say-PASS.N.SG.=ART 1SG-INS
Listen, now, and attend to what I say:

texínie oefí tòladún rosòrara,
dawn-INS call-IMP islander-PL.ACC assembly-DAT
At daybreak call the islanders to assembly,

yeccanígo ustinàra, oefígo aestún àrirra:
speak-IMP=and will-ACC=2SG call-IMP=and god-PL.ACC see-INF-DAT
And speak your will, and call the gods to witness:

canadòden àstin plùvaedongo hiettétranpra.
suitor-PL.DAT depart-INF scatter-PASS-INF=and house-PL.DAT=REFL
The suitors must go scattering to their homes.

Ahàuvie rózi ròdi hèa, ru yeyóu:
then path 2SG-M.DAT be.here-F.SG, 2SG-INS agree-M.SG-INS
Then here’s a course for you, if you agree:

exí stalè címu mòsloneá pesnixéral
take-INF strong-M.SG.ACC ship-ACC oar-PL.GEN-N.SG.INS twenty-INS=with
get a sound craft afloat with twenty oars

àstígo clàttígo banòtixa bavánayimiro bestìnara–
go-INF=ART travel-INF=ART father-GEN-N.SG.DAT=2SG news-DAT
and go abroad for news of your lost father—

dè clàttaduvimi imiòdi, grèvaradi
perhaps traveller-GEN-M.SG.DAT story-DAT, rumor-DAT=or
perhaps a traveller’s tale, or rumored fame

Zenuò clàttimi amattònieni lònéan.
Zeus-ABL travel-M.SG.ABL man-PL.GEN-N.PL.LOC land-PL.LOC
issued from Zeus abroad in the world of men.

Yeccaní áemi iximi mòdrimi Pulúa Nestoròdi,
speak-IMP that-M.SG.DAT noble-M.SG.DAT wise-M.SG.SAT Pylos-LOC Nestor-DAT
Talk to that noble sage at Pylos, Nestor,

àstígo Menalaùdi, rieggimi oránòdis
go-IMP=and Menelaos-DAT, red.haired-M.DAT.SG king-DAT=ART
then go to Meneláos, the red-haired king

Spartéa, axayònexa haláyimi òlmimi amattòdis géitimi hiettètra.
Sparta-LOC, Akhaian-PL.GEN-N.SG.GEN all-GEN-M.SG.DAT last-M.SG.DAT man-DAT=ART come-PFV-M.SG.DAT house-DAT
at Sparta, last man home of all the Akhaians.

Xàdditi bavanayèi rèmin
know-PFV-M.SG father-GEN-N.SG.ACC live-INF
If you should learn your father is alive

géingo hiettètra, ro deyázie cèdi payàulie.
come-INF=and home-DAT, 2SG-M can-FUT-M.SG remain-INF year-INS.
and coming home, you could hold out a year.

A brief review of my conlangs so far…

Seeing as this blog began very in medias res, what follows is a brief description of my conlangs and their current states, both in external and internal history.

Despite the fact that my first few posts here are in Calintese, it is actually only the latest of my languages to be fleshed out (despite its syntax slumbering in my head for a number of years). My main conlang is Keševan, on which I’ve worked for over a decade. And though it might seem disappointingly unexotic to other conlangers–very few of the language’s features are particularly un-European–I hold Keševan very close to my heart. It is by far the most developed of my languages, with a vocabulary of over 1700 entries, complete with etymologies and morphological breakdowns.

A taste of Keševan, a translation of the opening lines of Nerval’s Sylvie:

Na arlatsa le karze, eče, amma lumma, na lušissa se ša le kóšgalma katma, sevulta zarme vúlneže burle santákuže. Šangam or čat ota, šangam vag. 

(Stress on the penult unless marked, nasalize vowels before nasal consonants, unround unstressed back vowels, and you should be pretty good to go.)

Keševan has a couple sisters sketched out in light detail. They would be spoken in fictional countries adjacent to Keševa. One of the sisters is called Bolnese, the other is still searching for a name and needs to grow into herself.

Keševan and her sisters are descended from an ancient tongue called variously either Old Keševan or Old Kešefan or Rasal (the lattermost is what I’ve come to stick with). In the real world, it grew up simultaneously with its daughter Keševan, perhaps even earlier, but I’ve left it fallow for a very long time. I keep a running tally of words, features, etc. to revamp that I constantly promise I’ll get around to adding to the master document. Rasal and its daughters are all members of a language family sprawling across the northern edge of their continent.

My next major family lies far to the south in more tropical climes. Gapašan is a conscious attempt to break out of standard European linguistic models: Gapašan’s daughters stand out with thorough animacy-based split ergativity and some quite un-English phonologies. It is also a very recent attempt, dating back only a year. Gapašan’s daughters lie in three groups: Northwest Gapašic, which consists only of Irpan, of which I have only a few paragraphs of information; Central Gapašic, which contains Curonese, Agwenese, and Mejaguese; and South-East Gapašic, consisting of Yoronese, Kavan, and one or two other languages. Of this family Mejaguese is the most developed, with a couple hundred words of vocabulary and a grammar sketch. Out of the other Gapašic languages, only Yoronese approaches Mejaguese in its level of development.

A sample of Mejaguese: Ga si-oj ma qagbe čiyag siřu römorre. “The man loves the scholar whose father sits on the council.” q is /q/, j is /ʤ/, and ř /ʀ/.

In addition to these I have some very brief sketches of other non-Gapašic languages of the island of Gapaša. These little languages are effectively my sandboxes to play with whatever linguistic features I’ve recently read about.

Lastly and lately, Calintese, which I envision as belonging to an expansive “Proto-Southern” family growing in parallel with–and often at the expense of–Keševan’s Northern family. Calintese is an ancient language, a contemporary of Rasal, and in-world has a status not unlike Greek or Hebrew. I also imagine a close sister of Calintese under the working title of Meritic, which right now consists of some sound-change laws and a handful of words. Calintese’s modern descendant will be highly Keševized in vocabulary.

That’s how things stand at the moment. Regions to develop include the regions to the west of Keševa, about whose languages I have vague inklings of genetic affiliation but not much else.

Ilich-Svitych’s Nostratic poem

Another Calintese translation exercise, this time of Ilich-Svitych’s little poem in his proposed reconstruction of Nostratic.

Xútto pàttuavemi céxarastra oxèsmen
tongue time-GEN-N.DAT river-DAT=ART=through crossing
Language is a ford through the river of time

bièdeigo aná àstitixis hiettétras
lead-N.SG=and 1PL-N.ACC depart-PFV-N.GEN.PL=ART house-DAT=ART
and leads us to the dwelling of the departed

la górris puddá crìlie géyeva éara
but fear-M.SG=ART deep-F.ACC.SG water-ACC go-M.SG=NEG that-N.DAT.SG
but he does not arrive there who is afraid of deep water.

Note the usage of the dative as an allative case and how a subjectless verb may be understood to be modify an indefinite subject when the article is attached: górris “the fearing one” or “he who fears”, i.e., “whoever fears.”

Schleicher’s Fable in Calintese Analyzed and Commentated

As promised, a gloss of the translation in my last post of Shleicher’s Fable into Calintese.

Máfi=s raùcco=s=go
sheep=ART horse=ART=and
The Sheep and the Horse

Articles are suffixed onto the preceding noun. The clitic -go ‘and’ I borrowed from Latin -que.

Hey-éa craùrm-Øa-va máfi ar-ìt-ea raucc-ún,
hill-LOC woolly-PRS-F.S-NEG sheep see-PFV-F.S horse-ACC.P
On a hill a sheep without wool saw horses

There are no true adjectives in Calintese–they are subsumed by the category of verbs. Thus, there is not “woolly” but rather a verb “be woolly,” and placed in attributive position before a noun it takes participial meaning: “a being-woolly sheep.” In certain classes of verbs the ending differs between attributive and predicative functions. In this example, -a and -ea both mark that the subject of the verb is feminine and singular (and nominative, only subjects can govern predicate verbals anyways), but the long form is used in the predicate or main verb. Diachronically, the long forms are reduplicated endings changed by vowel dissimilation. Originally, the reduplicated part must have been an entire copula. (Calintese lacks an overt copula. Thus one could alternately analyze the verbal system as consisting entirely of participles, which, in predicate, post-subject position are understood to be accompanied by an implicit “is” or “are”.)

These verbal adjectives can be marked for any nominal case. The entire system is largely inspired by the Russian past tense, though instead of just -л, -ла, -ло, -ли, I expanded the system to include the analogues of the marginally existent -лого, -лому, etc.–what the forms would be in the other, non-nominative cases.

Note also that the present tense has no overt marker, unlike the past perfective and imperfective.

xi é bièd-il-ei il-èi treàul-á,
and one lead-IPFV-N.S great-PRS.ACC.N.S cart-ACC.N.S
and one was pulling a big cart,

é nó-el-ei il-èi nost-á,
one bear-IPFV-N.S great-PRS.ACC.N.S burden-ACC.N.S
one was carrying a big load,

égo nó-el-ei amatt-ú griècc-il-ei-go.
one=and bear-IPFV-N.S person-ACC.S quick-IPFV-N.S=and
and one was carrying a person quickly.

I have decided that adverbs can’t be straightforwardly derived from verbal adjectives. The strategy Calintese instead employs can be seen in the above sentence: literally, “was carrying and was quick”. Compare English, in which someone can “come running” but not “come runningly.”

Máfi-s im-ìt-ea raucc-òden=sa,
sheep=ART say-PFV-F.S horse-DAT.P=ART
The sheep said to the horses,

“Dlàtta=ca métt-Ø-e ar-Ø-àu biètt-Ø-e raucc-ún amatt-ú c-é.”
heart-1S hurt-PRS-N.S see-PRS-ACC.F.S drive-PRS-ACC.M.S horse-ACC.P person-ACC.S 1S-ACC.F
“My heart hurts me seeing a man driving horses.”

Note that biètte ‘driving’ is accusative, just as all predicative verb-adjectives can be considered nominative. Ample verbal case agreement obviates most need for relative pronouns, Calintese instead liberally using participial phrases.

Ráucc-a-s im-ìt-iae, “Last-í, màfi, dlàtt-ae=na métt-Ø-iei aunet-ú, àr-Ø-ia é-a:
horse-P=ART say-PFV-M.P listen-IMP sheep heart-PL=1P hurt-PRS-N.P 1P.EXCL-ACC see-PRS-M.P this-ACC.N
The horses said, “Listen, sheep, our hearts hurt us, seeing this:

amátto, hiettél=so, dèx-i memm-èi éyal maf-ev-á=s craùr-ie=s pr-òdi,
person, master=ART, make-PRS-M.S warm-PRS-ACC.N garment sheep-GEN-INS.F=ART wool-INS=ART REFL-DAT.M
a man, the master, makes a warm garment for himself from the sheep’s wool,

The genitive case takes Suffixaufnahme, i.e., verbal endings to agree with its head (subject) noun. This also means it can take tense! We could say that the wool was mafevila “formerly of the sheep.” I feel justified in calling the genitive a case and not a derivational morpheme in that its form differs among the nominal declension classes.

xi máfi=s craùrm-Ø-a-va. Last-ít-a é-a màfi=s plùv-it-ea lurín-ara=s.
and sheep=ART woolly-PRS-F.S-NEG. listen-PFV-F.S this-ACC.N sheep=ART flee-PFV-F.S plain-DAT=ART
and the sheep is without wool.” Having heard this the sheep fled into the plain.

Schleicher’s Fable in Calintese

For now, a brief inaugural post. Interlinear gloss and commentary to come later. For the curious, <x> represents /x/, <oe> /oj/, and <ae> /aj/. The diacritics represent pitch accent.

Máfis raùccosgo
Heyéa craùrmava máfi arìtea rauccún, xi é bièdilei ilèi treàulá, é nóelei ilèi nostá, égo nóelei amattú grieccìleigo. Máfis imìtea rauccòdensa, “Dlàttaca métte aràu biètte rauccún amattú cé.” Ráuccas imìtiae, “Lastí, màfi, dlàttaena méttiei aunetú, ària éa: amátto, hiettélso, dèxi memmèi éyal mafevás craùries pròdi, xi máfis craùrmava. Lastíla éa màfis plùvitea lurínaras.

The Sheep and the Horse
On a hill, a sheep without wool saw horses, and one was leading a big wagon, one was carrying a big burden, and one was carrying a man quickly. The sheep said to the horses, “My heart pains me, seeing a man driving horses.” The horses said, “Listen, sheep, our hearts pain us when we see this: a man, the master, makes the wool of the sheep into a warm garment for himself, and the sheep has no wool.” Having heard this, the sheep fled into the plain.

update: corrected some grammatical errors