The Corá-nerstone of Great Translations!

A to Z of Homophones A to Z of Homophones An Alphabetic Exploration Homophones, those playful pairs, Words that sound alike, yet differ in affairs. From A to Z, let’s take a look, At these quirky twins in English’s book. A: Aid helps, an aide assists, Two words that form a homophone twist. B: Bare is exposed, a bear’s a beast, Both sound the same, to say the least. C: Cent, scent, and sent in a row, Three sound alike, as English will show. D: Dear is beloved, deer roams free, A heartfelt word or one by a tree. E: Eye lets you see, aye means yes, Homophones work to impress. F: Flour’s for bread, flowers bloom bright, Both sound sweet, though one takes flight. G: Gait is a walk, gate guards a space, One mov...

English Twins: Real Words with Quirky Connections English Twins: Real Words with Quirky Connections A Journey Through Sound-Alike Curiosities English quirks will make you ponder, How words take shape and sometimes wander. Like fish and ghoti , a famous play, Here are twins where both words stay. Lead: to guide, to walk ahead, Led: past tense, where guidance fled. One word sounds just like the other, Yet meanings split, like sister and brother. Bass: a fish that swims the ocean deep, Bass: the lowest tones in music steep. The same in spelling, yet split by sound, A harmony where quirks abound. Wind: the breeze that gently blows, Wind: to twist or turn where motion goes. One word, two sounds, a puzzling feat, A tricky pair no rules can beat. Tear: ...

GHOTI and Other Peculiarities GHOTI = FISH And Other Peculiarities of English Spelling Bernard Shaw, with clever wit, Exposed how English makes no sense a bit. He said, "GHOTI spells 'fish,' you see," A linguistic joke, eternally. From "enough" we take the **F** of "GH," Then "women" gives us the **I** to say. Finally, "nation" lends **SH** to "TI," And GHOTI becomes "fish"—oh my! But English quirks don’t stop at "fish," There’s more to add to Shaw’s sly dish. Let’s craft more words from rules askew, And see what else this tongue can do. PHOUGH = FOE: the "PH" from "phone" begins, Then "OUGH" as in "though" slips in. Together they form a solemn foe, ...

GHOTI = FISH GHOTI = FISH A Playful Critique of English Spelling Welcome, friend, to English’s maze, Where letters dance and meanings haze. GHOTI, they claim, is just like "fish," A linguistic joke, a quirky dish. Take the GH from "enough" or "tough," It’s not a "g," but "f"—fair enough! The rules, you see, bend out of sight, As logic takes a silent flight. Now add the O from "women," my dear, It’s "i" this time, though strange to hear. A simple vowel, yet so defiant, Twisting sounds like a vocal giant. Then comes TI , where "nation" resides, Turning to "sh," it slyly hides. How does "ti" make such a sound? In English logic, it’s tightly bound. So GHOTI...

The clever linguistic puzzle often attributed to demonstrates the irregularities in English spelling and pronunciation. The word GHOTI, pronounced as "fish", is a playful critique of English spelling rules. Here’s how it works: GH pronounced as F: From the word "enough," where "gh" makes the f sound. O pronounced as I: From the word "women," where "o" sounds like i. TI pronounced as SH: From the word "nation," where "ti" makes the sh sound. Put it all together, and "GHOTI" is pronounced as "fish"!

Silent Letters from A to Z Silent Letters from A to Z An Alphabetical Journey A: Aisle, like a pathway, smooth and wide, The silent "a" walks by your side. It slips away, no sound to lend, But leaves its mark from start to end. B: Comb, lamb, and thumb hide "b" with care, It lingers silent, but still is there. Climb a hill, but don’t let it show, The quiet "b" prefers to go. C: Scissors, muscle, scent, and scene, The silent "c" stays in between. It shapes the word with unseen art, A letter quiet, yet plays its part. D: Wednesday, handkerchief, subtle sound, The silent "d" does not rebound. In edge or badge, it dares not speak, A silent mark, forever meek. E: Love, breathe, dove—"e" stays mute, Its silence adds to English’s route. Though left unsaid, it still extends, The vowel’s streng...

Silent Letters in English Silent Letters in English A Playful Exploration Welcome to English, where letters hide, Silent sentinels that mystify. Silent 'K': knife, knight, know, knee— Always hidden, as you’ll see. Silent 'W': wrist, write, wrong, wreath, A ghostly sound beneath our speech. Wrestle and wrangle, but don’t expect The "w" to show its effect. Silent 'B': thumb, limb, comb, climb, In hushed tones, they keep their time. Lamb and dumb stay ever shy, Their "b"s unseen, though standing by. Silent 'H': honest, heir, hour, ghost, Words where "h" is but a host. Honor stands without its "h," Leaving us with just a trace. Silent 'C': scissors, muscle, scene, scent, ...

Dear learner, welcome, stay awhile, Let’s traverse English’s treacherous style. Where letters hide, in plain disguise, Silent sentinels defying the wise. Knife and knight, with muted "k"s, A relic of long-forgotten days. Know and knee, kneel and knack, The "k" retreats, it won’t come back. Silent "w" in write and wrong, A phantom sound, gone for so long. Wrestle, wreath, and wrist conspire, To twist the tongue, but not the lyre. The "b" in thumb, subtle, dumb, Muffled, trapped, and overcome. Lamb and climb, their "b"s erased, Yet meanings linger, firmly placed. Sword’s "w," quiet as a sigh, Gently passes the word by. Two and who, whole and wry, Words where "w" takes leave to lie. The ghostly "h" in ghost and hour, A silent heir of shifting power. Honor, honest, herb, and heir, Hushed, yet holding meanings rare. Subtle "c" in scissors and muscle, Cuts through words without a rustle. Scene and...

We´ll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes, But the plural of ox becomes oxen, not oxes. One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese, Yet the plural of moose should never be meese. You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice, Yet the plural of house is houses, not hice. If the plural of man is always called men, Why shouldn´t the plural of pan be called pen? If I speak of my foot and show you my feet, And I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet? If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth, Why shouldn´t the plural of booth be called beeth? Then one may be that, and three would be those, Yet hat in the plural would never be hose, And the plural of cat is cats, not cose. We speak of a brother and also of brethren, But though we say mother we never say methren. Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him, But imagine the feminine, she, shis and shim!