One localism creates another, which gives birth to a third. In the Veneto region (northeastern Italy), most of the population uses the Venetian dialect or even the Venetian language in everyday communication. It has many options, so in practice we are not talking about a “pure language”, but about its many options including japanese translator. And none of them can prevail over the others, becoming normative at the regional level.
So, the Padua version is quite different from the Venetian, for example: cucchiaio (spoon) in the Venetian version is written scujèr, in Padua and Treviso it is written cuciàro. As a result, to the uninitiated, the Venetian dictionary is not easy, and it exists along with the dictionaries of local dialects and languages. To understand the situation (and those who are fighting for the official recognition of the Venetian language with all the consequences), it is enough to consider the experiment in the province of Treviso. A few kilometers north of Treviso, in the commune of Spresiano, there is the town of Visnadello. The signs on the road signs in this commune are presented in two versions, for example: Spresiano / Spresian, Vinadello / Visnadel (with the stress on the last syllable). But in Treviso, the last name is pronounced Visnadèo; The “o” at the end is typical of the pronunciation along the left bank of the Piave River. Here it is enough to drive a few kilometers to notice the differences
in the language, even at the lexical level. However, the difference is not only in vocabulary, but also in grammatical constructions. For example, a simple interrogative sentence with the verb avere (to have): “Hai …?” (Do you have …?) – in the Venetian version it looks like “Ti ga …?” – apparently, the construction is borrowed from the French language. In Treviso, on the contrary, they say: “Gàtu …?”, Which is possibly a modified version of the German phrase: “Hast du …?” etc.
The author of this opus shares with the reader:
– Recently, I talked with hunters from the village of Chizon di Valmarino, which is at the foot of the Alps on the Treviso side. For me, a Venetian, the peculiarities of their dialect – truncated words and aspirated pronunciation – made understanding almost impossible. The word stazione (station), for example, they pronounce stathion. One of my Venetian interlocutors said the phrase “Ho ucciso una lepre” (“I killed a hare”): “Mi copèa un gèvr”. And a hunter from Treviso would say: “Go copà un lièvoro.”
