Levantine Arabic

Another post on a common expression. You’ll know the relative pronoun اللي (illi/@lli, and its variants يلي yalli and الـ l-), and if you don’t, you should read this post. The equivalent to ‘it’s X who Ys’ in English is expressed literally as X illi Y. Note that the verb (Y) agrees with the pronoun, whereas in English we usually use the third person form invariably. Note as well that the first vowel of illi/@lli is, like the vowel of the definite article, usually dropped following a vowel: ...

This is a short post about one (very useful) aspect of a much bigger phenomenon we’ve written about in detail elsewhere (specifically in this post and in more detail in this PDF), namely participles and their uses and abuses. If you’re relatively new to spoken Arabic, you may well have encountered words like طولان Toolaan, نحفان na7faan or كتران katraan. You might be wondering how these words differ from their simpler and more familiar equivalents طويل, نحيف and كتير. And if you’re like I was a few years ago, you might be misusing them by mistaking them for more colloquial synonyms of the words you know from fuSHa. Well, wonder no longer! ...

Another short post about a useful and common expression. نفسي (for most people nifsi or nəfsi, you may hear some people say nafsi) means ‘I’d love…’ or ‘I wish (I had…)’. You can replace ـي with other pronouns, of course. With nouns it takes بـ: نفسي بفنجان قهوة nəfsi bfənjaan 2ahwe I’d love a cup of coffee نفسي بإيشي يفرحني nifsi b2ishi yfarri7ni I wish I had something to make me cheery ...

This is a short post about how to avoid literally translating English in a very common set of constructions. In English, the word ‘one’ pops up all over our syntax like a bad smell. As well as being a number, the source of the indefinite article (even if ‘a’ and ‘an’ no longer look much like it) and an incredibly pretentious personal pronoun, we use it a lot with adjectives and other similar words to express an example of something, an object or a person characterised by the quality of the adjective. Explaining the semantics of words using other words is tough, but you know exactly what I mean: ‘the big one’, ‘the small one’, ‘that one’, ‘this one’. ...

This is a post about the highs and lows of translation, the difficulties of colloquial, and – perhaps most importantly – the cack-handed half-heartedness of Netflix’s subtitling. In my actual life – that is, when I’m not following my real vocation of writing snarky and/or fake-authoritative posts about Syrian dialect on the internet – I work as a translator. I also, sometimes, watch TV (as the innumerable lines from musalsalat I’ve used as examples might suggest). We’ve already slated the bizarre and occasionally desperately wrong stabs at English you can find in MBC’s abysmal MSA subtitling – but bad translation is far from confined to media conglomerates and their poor renderings of 4-year-old American B-movies. It turns out that it’s also a problem for groundbreaking American streaming services’ poor renderings of (relatively new) Syrian-Lebanese dramas. ...

This is a belated FuSHa to Shami post on something that I somehow managed to completely avoid covering the first time round – what Cowell calls ‘presentational particles’. There are a few of these dialectally, but we’re only going to cover the main two here: ليك leek and هي/هاي hayy/haay. هي hayy This is the more universal of the two particles, used in all Levantine dialects. Its basic meaning is ‘here is’ or ‘there is’. Although for some speakers it’s homophonous with the feminine form of هاد (‘this [one]’, feminine), and might be etymologically related, it does not change for gender and can be used with anything: ...

This is a quick post about the word ‘barely’. ‘Barely’ is a pretty useful English word, with a few different possible translations in Levantine. يا دوب ya doob This is probably the most multi-purpose and useful word for ‘barely’ or ‘hardly’. It’s not particularly transparent, and I have no idea of the etymology. It can take pronoun suffixes (ya doobni, ya doobak) or appear on its own. Sometimes it triggers subjunctive. ...

You probably already know the words تقيل and خفيف in their literal senses, along with their plural forms. You’ve probably also heard at least some of the various verbs derived from them, or could guess at them based on our handy guide to causatives. You might not know, however, that calling someone ‘heavy’ is more likely to be a comment on how they deal with potential suitors than their actual weight. For this and more metaphors and expressions of similar weighty importance, have a look at this post. ...

You may already know the word عزم يعزم ‪3azam yi3zem ‘invite’ (not ‘be determined’ as in fuSHa), but unless you’re German or Turkish this simply gloss is likely to expose you to some misunderstandings and possibly some embarrassments without a little bit of cultural background. If you tell someone: بعزمك على فنجان قهوة bi3zmak 3ala finjaan 2ahwe ‘I’ll invite you for a cup of coffee’ ...

This post is about all the different things you can do with your eyes (عين عيون ‭3een 3yuun). As anybody who’s listened to any Arab pop song can attest, the word 3een and its various variations appears all the time in Arabic. In fact there are loads and loads of nice idioms to do with eyes which it’s worth learning a bit about. You can more or less divide these idioms up into three broad sections. The first set will be fairly familiar to English native speakers because they depend on a straightforward enough equivalence of eyes and seeing. The second set depends on a broad idea of the eye as something positive to be attached to compliments willy-nilly. The third set are to do with the evil eye. ...