There are a variety of reasons to use archaic terms like ‘thy’. One is, legitimately, just stylization, something even academics are not immune to.
However, archaic terms like ‘thy’ are sometimes used in place of politenesses that have no direct English equivalent - some languages have pronouns which are, specifically, respectful or formal (such as the Spanish ‘usted’ - likewise translated by Hemingway, not an academic but a respected writer, in For Whom The Bell Tolls as ‘thee’ and ‘thou’).
I know nothing about Ancient Egyptian, but this could be either.
Vaguely related thought because I was reminded of this earlier: legend has it that German chancellor Helmut Kohl once told a foreign dignitary from an English-speaking country, in English: “You can say you to me.” Which is at least weird in English but the German equivalent is perfectly cromulent because we have two words for “you”: he was trying to signal friendship by offering the more familiar, friendly one.
Absurdly, a “correct” translation for what he was trying to say would’ve been: “Thou canst say thou to me.”
(Worth noting that the story is apocryphal - although there’s a cherished tradition of German politicians failing miserably at English)
There are a variety of reasons to use archaic terms like ‘thy’. One is, legitimately, just stylization, something even academics are not immune to.
However, archaic terms like ‘thy’ are sometimes used in place of politenesses that have no direct English equivalent - some languages have pronouns which are, specifically, respectful or formal (such as the Spanish ‘usted’ - likewise translated by Hemingway, not an academic but a respected writer, in For Whom The Bell Tolls as ‘thee’ and ‘thou’).
I know nothing about Ancient Egyptian, but this could be either.
Vaguely related thought because I was reminded of this earlier: legend has it that German chancellor Helmut Kohl once told a foreign dignitary from an English-speaking country, in English: “You can say you to me.” Which is at least weird in English but the German equivalent is perfectly cromulent because we have two words for “you”: he was trying to signal friendship by offering the more familiar, friendly one.
Absurdly, a “correct” translation for what he was trying to say would’ve been: “Thou canst say thou to me.”
(Worth noting that the story is apocryphal - although there’s a cherished tradition of German politicians failing miserably at English)
“Ich bin ein Berliner”
It’s weird how they turned into formal words. Weren’t they familiar forms and “you” was formal?