Hi everyone! Another fuS7a to shaami redux post. Today we’ll be talking about demonstratives: ‘this’, ‘that’, ‘those’.

While in some respects the Syrian system here resembles that of fuS7a, it diverges enough that it probably needs to be looked at piece by piece. We’ll start with the demonstrative pronouns, which will look fairly familiar, and then move on to other things that have no fuS7a counterpart.

Demonstrative pronouns

The independent demonstrative pronouns are as follows:

These forms are most commonly used on their own, and typically (although not exclusively) translate structures of the kind ‘X one‘. Note that they can refer to people (in which case the translation usually requires an extra noun: ‘this guy’, ‘that woman’ etc):

Hal-

The usual way of expressing ‘this X’ or ‘that X’ with a noun is to use the prefix هالـ hal-, whose l- assimilates like the definite article. It has no distinct gender or number forms:

Note that unlike ⁱl-, hal- can attach to the beginning of an 2iDaafe construction, a number or some other expression of quantity:

Independent forms + a noun

Occasionally the full pronoun forms are used after a noun marked with hal- or – like fuS7a – used before or after a plain definite noun. All these structures are usually used for emphasis or contrast:

heek

Syrian also has a form هيك heek, usually meaning ‘like this’ or ‘like that’, which corresponds to fuS7a هكذا. This is a very widely used form:

Occasionally heek means ‘this’, usually in reference to a situation. Note the difference between the following:

heek can be used with an indefinite singular or plural noun to mean ‘such Xes’, ‘Xes like this/that’:

That’s all for today. Next time we’ll be looking at the 2iDaafe construction.

Hi everyone,

This post is about a very common – and misleading – particle, the word قال ‪2aal. You will almost certainly have encountered this word already as the normal way of saying ‘say’ or ‘tell’:

قللي ما في حدا بالبيت
2alli maa fii 7ada bilbeet
he said there wasn’t anyone at home

But what we’re talking about here is something different, something you might have encountered without even realising it. In this use, 2aal is an invariable particle. Although it looks like ‘he said’, it has no subject in the normal sense of the term. Instead, it marks second-hand information. If you ask me why Nour doesn’t want to go and see a film, I can say:

ولله ما بعرف. قال ما معها مصاري
waLLa maa ba3ref. 2aal maa ma3a maSaari
I don’t know. Apparently she’s got no money.

Similarly, in an example from our last post (and note the use of the participle here):

قال سارق فرع البريد
2aal saare2 fir3 ⁱlbariid
Apparently/they say he robbed the post office.

In these examples, it is fairly neutral. But in other cases it can be used to express scorn or suggest bad behaviour:

قال بدنا نترك! أنا بفرجيه
2aal biddna nitrok! 2ana bfarjii
so we’re going to break up, are we? I’ll show him!

In some contexts, 2aal is used in a way that connects together two sentences. Here it is very similar to the conjunction على أساس, and often expresses a (false) pretext for an action. It’s difficult to translate this usage directly with a single word, because the meaning in English is often expressed with intonation and air quotes. You might use the following sentence to remind your brother of his bad behaviour as a child:

‫كنت تسرقلي مصاري وتخبيهن قال بدك تجبلي فيهن لعبة…
kint tisri2li maSaari w ⁱtkhabbiyyon 2aal biddak ⁱtjibli fiyyon li3be…
you used to steal money off me and hide it so you could ‘buy me a toy’…

Or imagining for a moment that you’ve tricked someone into thinking he’s going to receive a bribe, you might say the following sentence. The meaning here is similar:

بدو يروح أول الشهر قال ياخد مصاريه. بس يوصل لهنيك بطبو عليه الشرطة
biddo yruu7 2awwal ⁱshshah^er 2aal yaakhod maSaarii. bass yuuSal la-huniik biTibbu 3alee shshirTa
he’ll go there on the first of the month thinking he’s going to get his money. As soon as he gets there, the police will jump him

As part of a story, it’s quite common to use the structure as a rhetorical question: قال شو؟ ‪2aal shuu? Again, it’s difficult to translate this with a single word, but let’s imagine again for a second that you’re reminding your brother of how he used to steal your money when you were younger. You can say:

قال شو؟ بس تكبري برجعلك ياهن
2aal shuu? bass tikbari brajji3lek yaahon!
apparently you were going to give it back once I grew up!
[said what? once you grow up I’ll return them to you]

Repeating 2aal before and after a structure is disparaging and suggests the other person has said something ridiculous or infuriating. If your fiancé says it’s still early days and there’s no need to set a date for the wedding yet, you can respond:

‫قال بكير قال! ما نحنا كاتبين الكتاب من سنة!
2aal bakkiir 2aal! ma ni7na kaatbiin lⁱktaab min sine!
‘early days!’ ‘early days!’ We’ve been engaged for a year!

That’s all for now. Note that I’m now (for my sins) on Twitter as Chris Hitchcock (@chm3na), so if you want to suggest posts or make sure I haven’t died, you can follow me there.

I saw Faraj Suleiman in concert a week or so ago, and I thought it would be nice to transcribe something written within my lifetime for a change.

Halfway through I realised that there’s a fairly gnarly swearword, which I normally try to avoid. So this post comes with a big old profanity warning and strong advice not to use this word until you’re sure you aren’t going to use it inappropriately (we’ve all been there).

The link for the music is here.

جد – seriously
نشّف – go dry
بقيت – this half-line is a bit opaque both to me and the Palestinian speakers I’ve asked, but I think this is the only possible meaning.

Hello everyone. Apologies for yet another long absence – I’ve been working on something pretty big that I’ll be able to tell you more about soon. But to tide you over, here’s a post about a verb (or two verbs, in fact) that you probably know in one sense but don’t realise the full potential of.

Dialects

رجع is used universally. رد is used only in North Levantine in the senses described below (although it is a very common verb in other more literal senses such as ‘answer’).

رجع is rije3/yirja3 in South Levantine and rəje3/yərja3 in North Levantine (these forms are more or less identical in pronunciation and the ə is in this case there for transcription reasons). The maSdar is رجوع rjuu3.

رد is radd/yrədd.

Literal meanings

The most common use of رجع is as a verb of motion equivalent to fuS7a عاد or English ‘go back’, ‘come back’, ‘return’ etc.

اضتريت انو ارجع ع البيت
ⁱDTarreet 2inno 2arja3 3albeet 
I was forced to go back home

راجعة ع الحارة؟
raaj3a 3al7aara?
Are you going back to your part of town?

بعدو ما رجع من الشغل
ba3do maa rije3 mn ⁱshshugh^ol
He still hasn’t got back from work

ردّ also has a number of literal meanings. The most common is probably ردّ على radd 3ala ‘answer, respond to’, but it’s also sometimes used to mean ‘reciprocate’, ‘turn away’ or ‘reject’. رد الباب means ‘leave the door open’.

Do something again

The first idiomatic use of both رجع and رد is a bit trickier to make correspond to any one English word, although it is often similar to either ‘again’ or ‘back’. It expresses, more or less, resuming something/doing something again after having stopped doing it. Structurally, this verb can either be combined with another verb of an identical form or be followed by the subjunctive. The subjunctive seems to be more common in SL although both structures appear everywhere:

ايش رجعت نمت؟
2eesh, rji3^et nim^et? (J)
What, have you gone back to sleep [did you return go to sleep]?

برجع بحاكيك
barja3 ba7akiik (P)
I’ll call you back [I’ll return call you]

وبلكي رد عمل نفس العملة؟
w belki radd 3əmel nafs ^əl3amle? (S)
What if he does the same thing again [what if he again did the same doing]?

برجع بشتريه
barja3 bashtrii (P)
I’m going to buy it again

Note that it can happily co-occur with other words for ‘again’ despite the seeming redundancy:

سكرت 3 أيام لأني مليت وتعبت بس بعدين رجعت فتحت مرة تانية
sakkar^ət tlett tiyyaam la2ənni malleet w t3əb^ət bass ba3deen rjə3t fata7t marra taanye (S)
I closed (my account) for three days because I was bored but then I opened it again

Sometimes it is equivalent to the prefix re-:

كتبت منشور بس طلع كلو كذب قمت رجعت كتبتو مرة تانية
katab^et manshuur bass Tile3 kullo kizeb 2umt rji3^et katabto marra taanye (P)
I wrote a post but everything in it turned out to be lies so I rewrote it

Note this (seemingly superfluous) example where رد is combined with رجع in its literal sense:

معلومك الشرطة راحت بس بترد ترجع
ma3luumak ^əshshərTa raa7et bass bətrədd tərja3 (S)
And you know, the police have gone but they’ll come back again

There is an extended usage which doesn’t necessarily correspond to any English word but which basically occurs when there is a reconsideration or a review involved in the action. For example:

أول شي استغليتو بعدين رجعت اشتريتو
2awwal shi staghleeto ba3deen ^ərjə3t shtareeto
At first I thought it was too expensive but then later I changed my mind and bought it

رجع عملها مقالة طويلة ع أساس بدها تننشر
rije3 3imelha maqaale Tawiile 3a 2asaas biddha tinnisher
Then he made it into an essay/reworked it into an essay because it was supposedly going to be published

قرأتها نسخة الكترونية ولأنها بتستحق رجعت اشتريتها نسخة ورقية
qara2tha nuskha 2iliktroniyya w la2innha btista7eqq rji3^et ⁱshtareetha nuskha waragiyya (P)
I read a digital copy then because it was worth it I bought a paper copy as well [I rebought it in paper form]

Go back to being

There is another use of رجع and رد that may not seem immediately familiar. This can literally be translated as ‘go back to being’ although this is rarely the most idiomatic choice in English. Like صار it expresses a change of state – but here the change explicitly is back to a state that existed before (i.e a ‘return’).

بدّي إرجع بنت صغيرة على سطح الجيران
bəddi 2ərja3 bənt ^əzghiire 3ala saT7 ^əljiiraan (S)
I want to go back to being a little girl on the neighbours’ roof

بتخيل مواقف وهميه معاهم بتفرحني بتذكر انو راحو برجع حزين
batkhayyal mawaa2ef wahmiyye ma3aahom bitfarri7ni, batzakkar 2inno raa7u barja3 7aziin (J)
I imagine made-up scenes with them that make me me happy, (then) I remember they’re gone and I’m sad again

علواه نرجع متل ما كنا
3aluwaa nərja3 mət^əl ma kənna! (L)
If only we could go back to how we were!

لا لا هلق رجعت عادية
la2 la2 halla2 rəj3et 3aadiyye (L)
No no now it’s gone back to normal

Note that this structure also exists in fuS7a with عاد:

ولكن المريض بعدها يعود عاديًا تمامًا
walaakin ^almariiDu ba3daha ya3uudu 3aadiyyan tamaaman
But afterwards the patient regains full health [= goes back to being totally normal]

Causatives

These verbs of course have causatives. radd can itself be used as a causative. For rəje3/rije3 a separate causative exists, rajja3:

شوفة بترد الشايب شب
shoofe bətrədd ^əshshaayib shabb (L)
A sight that would turn an old man back into a young man

النضارة بترجعك ولد صغير
ⁱnnaDDaara bitrajj3ak walad ⁱzghiir (P)
Glasses make you look like a child again [return you a child]

This post is about a high-frequency structure that you’re unlikely to learn in your 3aammiyye classes but which is, conveniently, the title of an El Morabba3 song: ليكون laykuun.

Dialects

In all Levantine dialects ليكون can be used as an invariable expression. Historically, however, it is a contraction of لا يكون laa ykuun ‘let it not be‘ – that is, a negative subjunctive form of the verb كان. In North Levantine, conjugated forms sometimes appear in the same meaning: لا تكون راجع لهون laa tkuun raaje3 lahoon ‘I hope you’re not coming back here’. In the rest of this post for the purposes of simplicity I’ll only be using laykuun.

Use

Laykuun can be translated a number of ways. Its basic function is to introduce conjectures with a distinctly negative connotation. Let’s begin with a fairly dramatic example. Take for example the المربع song I mentioned in the beginning. Like a lot of alternative music its lyrics are not the most transparent meaning-wise but it’s fairly obvious from these two couplets that he’s remonstrating with an ex:

ليكون زعلتي زعلك مش مفهوم فجأة بلمتي كأنك درس تعلمتي
laykuun z3ilti, za3lek mish mafhuum, faj2a ballamti, ka2innek dars t3allamti
Don’t tell me you’re upset?  It’s impossible to understand – you went silent suddenly, as if you’d learnt a lesson

ليكون اندمتي ندمك مش مدروس انتي اللي اخترتي انتي اللي احترتي
laykuun ndimti, nadamek mish madruus, inti lli khtirti inti lli 7tirti
Don’t tell me you’re regretful? Your regret doesn’t make sense – it was you who chose, it was you who got coonfused

Here the connotation is that if this is the explanation for your behaviour, it’s pretty unreasonable. Incidentally, whoever (and I’m guessing it was a native speaker of Arabic) translated these lyrics on YouTube used ‘could it be…?’ to translate laykuun. This obviously reflects the conjecture meaning I mentioned earlier.

Here’s another example. A dad might say affectionately to his son:

شبك سرحان متل المسطل؟ ليكون عشقان لك أزعر؟
shəbak sar7aan mətl l@msaTTel? laykuun 3ash2aan lak 2az3ar?
What’s up with all this staring into space? Don’t tell me you’re in love, you reprobate?
[What’s wrong with you staring into space like a stoned person?]

Here the negative connotation is gentler and more comical. Your friend might say this to you if you can’t find the street you’re looking for:

ليكون خربطنا بالطريق؟
laykuun kharbaTna biTTarii2?
You don’t think we might have gone the wrong way?

 ليكون بدك تتحالف معهم ضدي
 laykuun biddak tit7aalaf ma3hom DiDDi
Surely you’re not going to make an alliance with them against me?

Note that you can also use laykuun to be polite. For example:

ليكون ضايقناك بس؟
laykuun daaya2naak bass?
I just hope we haven’t bothered you?

This sentence could of course also be sarcastic depending on intonation.

This is a post about a common, and commonly misused, word – تعبان ta3baan.

First things first. Grammatically, تعبان is an -aan participle, which we’ve previously talked about here. Like many other participles, it refers to the state resulting from a verb – in this case تعب ti3eb/yit3ab. This verb has a causative with its own participle (تعّب ta33ab, متعب mta33eb). There’s also an adjective derived from the same root with a related meaning, متعب mit3eb/mut3eb. These forms do not differ significantly from dialect to dialect.

Normally, تعبان is translated as ‘tired’, تعب as ‘get tired’, and متعب as ‘tiring’ or ‘tiresome’. Although this is certainly somewhere close to the meaning, تعبان is somewhat stronger than the English word ‘tired’ is. Most of the time, a more appropriate equivalent to English ‘tired’ is نعسان na3saan ‘sleepy, drowsy’. تعبان  is probably closer in this case to ‘worn out’ or ‘exhausted’. If you say you’re ‘tired’ in English after getting up early nobody will be surprised, but if you say you’re تعبان under the same circumstances you’re likely to be met with concern!

تعبان is also often used in a sense closer to ‘ill’ – that is, it often carries a connotation that you’re coming down with something or are poorly.

Note that unlike ‘tired’, تعبان can also be used to refer to things. If someone tells you:

البيت تعبان ولله
@lbeet ta3baan waLLa

What they mean is that it’s old or shabby (and not, obviously, that it’s tired).

Likewise:

الحالة تعبانة يا ليلى
il7aale ta3baani yaa leyla

Means things are not looking good, that things are in a bad way, etc.

Note also the expression:

نفسيتو تعبانة
nafsiyyto ta3baane
He’s really down in the dumps
Things have really got him down

Note also the common use of the verb تعب in the following construction:

تعبنا كتير لحتى وصلنا
t3ǝbna ktiir la7atta waSSalna 
It took us forever to get there [= we got tired a lot until we arrived]
It took so much effort to get here

la7atta is distinctly Syrian. ta- (Leb, Pal) and la- (everywhere) are other regional alternatives.

A slightly late post in our Verbs I Might Have Known series. This one is about اخد ‪2akhad, a verb we certainly all know. Compared to previous verbs in this series, 2akhad has less core or auxiliary meanings, but it does appear in a lot of common and useful combined phrases which we’ll cover here.

Dialect forms

اخد’s past form is the same everywhere, 2akhad. Its present forms, however, vary: in North Levantine they have a consistent long aa in the prefixes that absorbs the hamze (baakhod, btaakhod, byaakhod…) and in South Levantine they have a long oo except in the first person singular, where they have aa (baakhod, btookhod etc). The imperative forms in NL are khood, khədi, khədu, while SL has similar forms but (as expected) doesn’t have the shift of short u/i to ə, producing khood, khudi, khudu . Occasionally you might hear the shortened forms خو kho, خي khi and خو khu. The participle in NL is regular (2aakhed) but in SL is irregular, with m (ماخد maakhed).

Take, get, bring…

The most basic and literal meaning of 2akhad is of course ‘take’. This is probably so basic as to not require any examples – خود هي khood hayy ‘take this’, etc. But it is worth noting that often 2akhad is used in contexts where ‘get’ would be the idiomatic choice in English:

تعالي خدي ابنك
ta3aali khədi 2ibnek (S)
Come and get your son

جاي اخد التتذكرة
jaay 2aakhod ittazkara (P)
I’ve come to get the ticket

Take (someone somewhere)

Likewise, it can be used in the sense of taking somebody somewhere:

توت توت ع بيروت يا بيي خدني مشوار
tuut tuut 3a beyruut yaa beyyi khədni məshwaar (L)
Toot, toot, on to Beirut – Dad, take me for a drive [= take me a trip]

خدني معك وديني ع شارع الحمرا
khədni ma3ak, waddiini, 3a shaare3 əl7amra (L)
Take me with you, o take me to Hamra Street

In this sense you can use the participle as a future:

وين اخدنينني؟
ween 2aakhdiinni? (S)
Where are you taking me?

‘Have’ (in orders, food etc)

وانا باخد الملوخية
w2ana baakhod limlukhiyye (P)
And I’ll have the mulukhiyye

Take it from me:

In the sense of ‘trust me’:

هادا قرار كله كله حكمة مش رح تلاقي حد يفهمك زيهم خدي مني
haada qaraar kullo 7ikme. mish ra7 itlaa2i 7ad yifhamek zayyhom khudi minni (J)
That’s a very sensible decision. You won’t find anyone who understands you like they do, trust me!

Take something to heart, take offence:

Literally ‘take onto one’s khaaTer‘: اخد على خاطرو, or اخد ع بالو ‘take onto one’s baal‘.

شكلو كان يحلم بشهادة رسمية منشان هيك آخد على خاطرو من الاستاذ
shəklo kaan yə7lam bshahaade rasmiyye mənshaan heek 2aakhed 3ala khaaTro mn əl2əstaaz (S)
It seems like he had dreams of getting an official licence, and that’s why he’s upset with/taken offence at the teacher

Take it in the spirit in which it was intended

Literally, ‘take it in a sporting spirit’:

بدك توخدها بروح رياضية ماشي؟
biddak tookhudha bruu7 riyaDiyye, maashi? (J)
You have to be a good sport about it, OK?

To take a (principled) stand, position:

اخد موقف ‪2akhad maw2ef (in Leb maw2af).

لازم نحنا الشمل نلم وناخد موقف بشرف
laazim nə7na shshaml ənləmm w naakhod maw2af bisharrif
We have to stand together and take an honourable position!

To decide you have an issue with, to take a dislike to, etc

اخد موفق من ‪2akhad maw2ef mən/min, literally ‘take a negative stand on’.

بس لا يكون اخد مني موقف؟
bass laa ykuun 2aakhed mənni maw2ef? (S)
I just hope he hasn’t [decided he’s] got a problem with me

Get accustomed to, get comfortable in

اخد على ‪2akhad 3ala.

في حد لسا مش ماخد ع الجو
fii 7ad lissa mish maakhed 3a jjaww? (J)
Is there anyone who still isn’t used to the vibe?

Take seriously:

2akhad jadd or 2akhad bjiddiyye:

لما يكون الموضوع هبل كتير وواحد يجي ماخدو جد كتيير
… lamma ykuun ilmawDuu3 habl iktiir wwaa7ed yiji maakhdo jadd iktiir (P)
… when something’s really stupid and someone comes along who’s taking it very seriously

Dismissive خدلك, خود على

Used to be dismissive about something. For example this punchline to a joke in which a man out playing cards with his friends has been called home by his wife:

معلش شباب بس مرتي تعبانه شوي -خدلك هالحكي الفاضي كمل اللعبة وقوم . خلص مش ضايل اشي
ma3lish shabaab bass marti ta3baane shwayy / khudlak hal7aki lfaaDi kammel illa3be w2uum. khallaS mish Daayel 2ishi (P)
Sorry lads, my wife’s feeling a bit poorly. / Forget that nonsense, finish the game and then go! We’re almost done.

In Syrian خود على is more common: خود على هالحكي.

Do what you feel like (take your rest)

اخد راحتو ‪2akhad raa7to. Can be used on its own, including as a polite response to someone asking for a few moments (خود راحتك khood raa7tak ‘don’t worry about it’). But can also be used in contexts like the following:

خليه ياخد راحتو بالتفكير
khallii yaakhod raa7to bittafkiir (S)
Let him think about it at his leisure
Give him space to think [= take his rest in thinking]

بدي ياكي توخدي راحتك بالحكي
biddi_yyaaki tookhdi raa7tek bil7aki (P)
I want you to feel like you can say anything [= take your rest in talking]

Other combinations

اخدها خوش بوش ‪2akhadha khoosh boosh ‘to be familiar’
اخد احطياتات ‪2akhad i7Tiyaataat ‘take precautions’
اخد دوا ‪2akhad dawa ‘take medicine’
خود يمينك, شمالك, يسارك khood yamiinak, shmaalak, yasaarak ‘go right/left’ (take your right, your left)
خليك اخد يمينك khalliik 2aakhed yamiinak (S, L) ‘keep over to the right’

Another post in our ‘verbs I might have known’ series (طلع/نزل, بدو, اجى, زبط) s about flexible, useful and common verbs that you probably know but might not realise the true power of. This week’s entry is on قعد ‪2a3ad, literally ‘sit’.

Dialects

As usual, let’s get the different dialect forms out of the way first. All dialects allow 2a3ad in the past tense, although some North Levantine speakers may have 2ə3ed instead. The present tense form for everyone has o. In North Levantine this means yə23od, and in South Levantine yu23od with the vowel harmony talked about here.

South Levantine has a regular imperative: 2u23od, -i, -u. For some North Levantine speakers the imperative is regular too (according to the NL rules): 23ood, 23ədi, 23ədu. But the hamze is usually dropped, producing the irregular form 3ood, 2ədi, 2ədu.

The maSdar is قعود ‪23uud or occasionally (for some speakers) قعدان ‪2a3adaan.

‘Sit’

The most literal meaning is ‘sit down’, from which the participle 2aa3ed means ‘sitting’:

انتو وين قاعدين؟
2intu ween 2aa3diin?
Where are you sitting?

From this we get the noun of instance قعدة ‪2a3de meaning ‘way of sitting’:

قعدتو معجبتنيش, قعدة زعران
2a3edto ma3ajbatniish. 2a3det zu3raan (P)
I didn’t like the way he was sitting [= his way of sitting]. It’s a no-good way of sitting [= a gangsters’ 2a3de]

قعدة can also mean a gathering or a face-to-face discussion (‘a sitting’):

عملنا قعدة صغيرة بالبيت
3milna 2a3de zghiire bilbeet (P)
We had a little gathering at home

هالقصة بدا قعدة
hal2əSSa bədda 2a3de (L)
This is something that needs a face-to-face discussion (needs us to sit down and talk about it)

It can also mean the atmosphere/vibe in a place (literally what it’s like to sit/hang around there):

القعدة هنيك كتير حلوة
əl2a3de huniik ktiir 7əlwe (S)
The atmosphere/vibe there is very nice

القعدة بالبيت بتزهق
il2a3de bilbeet bitzahhe2 (P)
Hanging around/sitting at home is boring

It’s very common to say قاعدين (literally ‘we’re sitting [around]’) to mean ‘we’re hanging around’ (at a place where sitting is involved):

هينا قاعدين, بس تفضى تعال
hayyna 2aa3diin. bass tifDa ta3aal (P)
We’re just hanging here. As soon as you’re done come!

لك وين رايح يا زلمة قاعدين!
lak 2ənte ween raaye7 yaa zalame 2aa3diin! (S)
Where are you going, man? We’re hanging out here!

Note also that قعد is often used to mean ‘sitting around [doing nothing]’ in combination with a 7aal:

قاعد عم يلعب بديلو
2aa3ed 3am yəl3ab bdeelo
Sitting around twiddling his thumbs [= playing with his tail] (one of various ruder alternatives)

Note also the combination with another imperative, which although literal is not idiomatic in English:

عود كول معنا
3ood kool ma3na (S)
Come and eat with us! [= to someone who’s just arrived]

The causative قعّد can of course mean ‘make/let someone sit down’:

بس فات ع المكتب قعدوه عالكرسي
bass faat 3almaktab 2a33aduu 3alkursi (P)
As soon as he came in they sat him down on the chair

It can also have a connotation of ‘kept me sitting around’:

قعدوني شي ساعة قبل ما فوتوني لعدنو
2a33aduuni nəSS saa3a 2abəlma fawwatuuni la3əndo (S)
They made me sit around for half an hour before they let me in to see him

Note the causative can have a ‘with’ meaning (like la33ab ‘play with’, 2arra ‘read with’ etc):

قومي قعدي ستك شوي
2uumi 2a33edi sittek shwayy (P)
Go and sit with your grandma for a bit

‘Stay’

Specifically, ‘stay’ in the sense of ‘a stay somewhere’:

قديش بدك تقعد بالقدس؟
2addeesh biddak tu23od bil2uds?  (P)
How long are you going to stay in Jerusalem?

انت وين قاعد بالزبط؟
2inta ween 2aa3ed bizzabT? (J)
Where are you staying exactly?

This form also has a causative meaning ‘let someone stay’, etc:

قعدناه عنا لبين ما لقى بيت
2a33adnaa 3ənna labeen ma la2a beet (S)
We let him stay with us/hosted him until he found a house

Continuous

قعد is often combined with a continuous form, especially in the participle. This should not be understood as meaning literally sitting:

قاعدين عم يقصفو المدن
2aa3diin 3am yə2Səfu lmədon (S)
They’re bombarding the cities [= sitting and bombarding]

قاعد عم احكي مع حيط انا
2aa3ed 3am 2a7ki ma3 7eeT 2ana (P)
It’s like I’m talking to a brick wall [= I’m sitting talking to…]

‘Go around Xing’

Used as an auxiliary قعد can also imply repeated but also unreasonable action:

يلي بصلي الجمعة ويلي بصلي الاحد قاعد يفلح فينا على طول الجمعة
yalli biSalli jjəm3a wyalli biSalli l2a7ad 2aa3ed yəfla7 fiina 3ala Tool əjjəm3a (L)
The ones who pray on Friday and the ones who pray on Sunday give us a hard time all week long

تقعدش تتطلب
tu23udesh tiTTallab! (P)
Don’t go around demanding things!

Expressions

قاعد لا شغلة ولا عملة ‪2aa3ed laa shaghle wala 3amle ‘sitting around with nothing to do’

الدنيا قايمة قاعدة iddunya/əddənye 2aayme 2aa3de ‘everything’s very chaotic’

قامت القيامة وما قعدت ‪2aamet/2aamat li2yaame w maa 2a3det/2a3dat ‘absolute chaos broke out’