10 Thanks.
Dialogue 1 of 100
01 Hello.
02 Hi.
03 How are you?
04 I'm good. How are you?
05 Good. Do you speak English?
06 A little. Are you American?
07 Yes.
08 Where are you from?
09 I'm from California.
10 Nice to meet you.
11 Nice to meet you too.
Dialogue 2 of 100
1 Excuse me, are you American?
2 No.
3 Do you speak English?
4 A little, but not very well.
5 How long have you been here?
6 Two months.
7 What do you do for work?
8 I’m a student. How about you?
9 I’m a student too.
Dialogue: TELLING THE TIME
Betty: I think my watch is slow. Jim,
please, can you tell me what time it is?
Jim: It’s a quarter to ten.
Betty: My God! Is your watch right? Isn't
it a little fast?
Jim: Of course it is right? It’s a brand
new wrist watch!
Betty: Let’s hurry, then! We’re late!
Jim: Are we? What for?
Betty: Our English class! It begins at ten
o’clock sharp!
Jim:
Oh, my! Let’s hurry up!
PARA TRADUZIR OU AVALIAR AS TRADUÇÕES POR VENTURA JÁ EXISTENTES DESSE TEXTO VISITE A NOSSA PÁGINA NO DUOLINGO
PARA TRADUZIR OU AVALIAR AS TRADUÇÕES POR VENTURA JÁ EXISTENTES DESSE TEXTO VISITE A NOSSA PÁGINA NO DUOLINGO
A SWEET DEMONSTRATION
A diabetic has too much sugar in his blood as well as
sugar in his urine. The fact that diabetic urine is sweet to the taste was
often used amusingly by Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, a distinguished American
physician who was also famous as a poet, in his lectures to Harvard medical
students.
He used to point to a beaker of urine on the table and
say: "Now I will demonstrate that urine can be sweet." Then he would
dip his finger into the beaker and taste. After that he would say: "Gentlemen,
would you do the same, please?"
After the demonstration Holmes would smile and then
show his disappointment. "You lack observation, gentlemen – a highly
important factor in medical diagnosis", he would say. "I said I would
demonstrate that urine could be sweet, and you did not note that I put my index
finger in the beaker but tasted my middle finger."
LATE FOR SCHOOL
Fred's mother: "Do you hear me, Fred? Do you know it’s 9 o’clock already? Get up and go to school!"
Fred: "I don't want to go to school"
Fred's mother: "But you have to go"
Fred's mother:"The teachers don't understand me,
and I don't understand them either. The children, too. They don't like me, and
I don't like them either. That school hates me, and I hate it too."
Fred's mother: "But you have to go!"
Fred (almost crying): "Why? Why do I have to go
to school?"
Fred's mother: "Well, because you are fifty-five
years old and you are the headmaster."
OPERATION SWALLOWS
It’s winter now. In many parts of Europe snow is
falling, covering towns and mountains with its white mantle. And in Switzerland
the national institute for the scientific study of birds is asking for help.
You see, thousands of swallows cannot cross the Alps
because of bad weather – cold an wind. They need to go South where it is warm
in winter and they can find the insects that they eat. "Operation
Swallows" is asking people to find the poor birds that are dying of cold
and hunger and save them. The people are feeding the birds, putting them into
boxes and taking them to a train station. The Swiss railways and the national
airline are helping the birds, too. They are taking them to the other side of
the Alps or to the Mediterranean for the winter. Naturally, nobody is asking
the birds to show their tickets!
(Adapted from an article by Diana Hendricks in BBC
Modern English)
WATCHMAN NEE - THE NORMAL CHRISTIAN LIFE - CHAPTER ONE – THE BLOOD OF CHRIST
CHAPTER ONE – THE BLOOD OF CHRIST
What is the normal Christian life? We do well at the
outset to ponder this question. The objet of these studies is to show that it
is something very different from the life of the average Christian. Indeed a
consideration of the written Word of God – of the Sermon on the Mount for
example – should lead us to ask whether such a life has ever in fact been lived
upon the earth, save only by the Son of
God Himself. But in that last saving clause lies immediately the answer to
our question.
The apostle Paul gives us his own definition of the
Christian life in Galatians 2.20. It is 'no longer I, but Christ'. Here he is
not stating something special or peculiar – a high level of Christianity. He is,
we believe, presenting God's normal for a Christian, which can be summarized in
the words: I live no longer, but Christ lives His life in me.
God makes it quite clear in His Word that He has only
one answer to every human need – His Son, Jesus Christ. In all His dealings
with us He works by taking us out of the way and substituting Christ in our
place. The Son of God died instead of us for our forgiveness: He lives instead
of us for our deliverance. So we can speak of two substitutions – a Substitute
on the Cross who secures our forgiveness and a Substitute within who secures
our victory. It will help us greatly, and save us from much confusion, if we
keep constantly before us this fact, that God will answer all our questions in
one way and one way only, namely, by showing us more of His son.
Un Souvenir Qu'on Va Chérir
Ce matin, nous sommes tous arrivés à l'école bien contents, parce qu'on va
prendre une photo de la classe qui sera pour nous un souvenir que nous allons
chérir toute notre vie, comme nous l'a dit la maîtresse. Elle nous a dit
aussi de venir bien propres et bien coiffés.
C’est avec plein de brillantine sur la tête que je suis entre dans la cour
de récréation. Tous les copains étaient déjà là et la maîtresse était en train
de gronder Geoffroy qui était venu habillé en martien. Geoffroy a un papa très
riche qui lui achète tous les jouets qu’il veut. Geoffroy disait à la maîtresse
qu’il voulait absolument être photographié en martien et que sinon il s’en
irait.
Le photographe était là, aussi, avec son appareil et la maîtresse lui a dit
qu’il fallait faire vite, sinon, nous allions rater notre cours d’arithmétique.
Agnan, qui est le premier de la classe et le chouchou de la maîtresse, a dit
que ce serait dommage de ne pas avoir arithmétique, parce qu’il aimait ça et qu’il
avait bien fait tous ses problèmes. Eudes, un copain qui est très fort, voulait
donner un coup de poing sur le nez d’Agnan, mais Agnan a des lunettes et on ne
peut pas taper sur lui aussi souvent qu’on le voudrait. La maîtresse s’est mise
à crier que nous étions insupportables et que si ça continuait il n’y aurait
pas de photo et qu’on irait en classe. Le photographe, alors, a dit : « Allons,
allons, allons, du calme, du calme. Je sais comment il faut parler aux enfants,
tout va se passer très bien. »
Le photographe a décidé que nous devions nous mettre sur trois rangs ;
le premier rang assis par terre, le deuxième, debout autour de la maîtresse qui
serait assise sur une chaise et le troisième, debout sur des caisses. Il a
vraiment des bonnes idées, le photographe.
Les caisses, on est allés les chercher dans la cave de l’école. On a bien
rigolé, parce qu’il n’y avait pas beaucoup de lumière dans la cave et Rufus s’était
mis un vieux sac sur la tête et il criait : « Hou ! Je suis le
fantôme. » Et puis, on a vu arriver la maîtresse. Elle n’avait pas l’air
contente, alors nous sommes vite partis avec les caisses. Le seule qui est
resté, c’est Rufus. Avec son sac, il ne voyait pas ce qui se passait et il a
continué à crier : « Hou ! Je suis le fantôme », et c’est
la maîtresse qui lui a enlevé le sac. Il a été drôlement étonné, Rufus.
De retour dans la cour, la maîtresse a lâché l’oreille de Rufus et elle s’est
frappé le front avec la main. « Mais vous êtes tout noirs » elle a
dit. C’était vrai, en faisant les guignols dans la cave, on s’était un peu
salis. La maîtresse n’était pas contente, mais le photographe lui a dit que ce
n’était pas grave, on avait le temps de se laver pendant que lui disposait les
caisses et la chaise pour la photo. À part Agnan, le seul qui avait la figure
propre, c’était Geoffroy, parce qu’il avait la tête dans son casque de martien,
qui ressenble à un bocal. « Vous voyez, a dit Geoffroy à la maîtresse, s’ils
étaient venus tous habillés comme moi, il n’y aurait pas d’histoires. » J’ai
vu que la maîtresse avait bien envie de tirer les oreilles de Geoffroy, mais il
n’y avait pas de prise sur le bocal. C’est une combine épatante, ce costume de
martien !
Nous sommes revenus après nous être lavés et peignés. On était bien un peu
mouillés, mais le photographe a dit que ça ne faisait rien, que sur la photo ça
ne se verrait pas.
« Bon, nous a dit le photographe, vous voulez faire plaisir à votre
maîtresse ? » Nous avons répondu que oui, parce que nous l’aimons
bien la maîtresse, ellle est drôlement gentille quand nous ne la mettons pas en
colère. « Alors, a dit le photographe, vous allez sagement prendre vos
places pour la photo. Les plus grands sur les caisses, les moyens debout, les
petits assis. » Nous on y est allés et le photographe était en train d’expliquer
à la maîtresse qu’on obtenait tout des enfants quand on était patient, mais la
maîtresse n’a pas pu l’écouter jusqu’au bout. Elle a dû nous séparer, parce que
nous voulions être tous sur les caisses.
« Il y a un seul grand ici, c’est moi ! » criait Eudes et il
poussait ceux qui voulaient monter sur les caisses. Comme Geoffroy insistait,
Eudes lui a donné un coup de poing sur le bocal et il s’est fait très mal. On a
dû se mettre à plusieurs pour enlever le bocal de Geoffroy qui s’était coincé.
La maîtresse a dit qu’elle nous donnait un dernier avertissement, après ce
serait l’arithmétique, alors, on s’est dit qu’il falait se tenir tanquilles et
on a commencé à s’installer. Geoffroy s’est approché du photographe : « C’est
quoi, votre appareil ? » il a demandé. Le photographe a souri et il a
dit : « C’est une boîte d’où va sortir un petit oiseau, bonhomme. »
Il es vieux votre engin, a dit Geoffroy, mon papa il m’en a donné un avec
parasoleil, objectif à courte focale, téléobjectif, et, bien sûr, des
écrains... » Le photographe a paru surpris, il a cessé de sourire et il a
dit à Geoffroy de retourner à sa place. « Est-ce que vous avez au moins
une cellule photoélectrique ? » a demandé Geoffroy. « Pour la
dernière fois, retourne à ta place ! » a crié le photographe qui, tout
d’un coup, avait l’air très nerveux.
On s’est installés. Moi, j’étais assis par terre, à côté d’Alceste. Alceste,
c’est mon copain qui est très gros et qui mange tout le temps. Il était en
train de mordre dans une tartine de confiture et le photographe lui a di de
cesser de manger, mais Alceste a répondu qu’il fallait bien qu’il se nourrisse. « Lâche cette tartine ! » a crié la maîtresse qui était
assise juste derrière Alceste. Ça l’a tellement surpris, Alceste, qu’il a
laissé tomber la tartine sur sa chemise. « C’est gagné », a dit
Alceste, en essayant de racler la confiture avec son pain. La maîtresse a dit
qu’il n’y avait plus qu’une chose à faire, c’était de mettre Alceste au dernier
rang pour qu’on ne voie pas la tache sur sa chemise. « Eudes, a dit la
maîtresse, laissez votre place à votre camarade. » « Ce n’est pas mon
camarade, a répondu Eudes, il n’aura pas ma place et il n’a qu’a se mettre de
dos à la photo, comme ça on ne verra pas la tache, ni sa grosse figure. »
La maîtresse s’est fâchée et elle a donné comme punition à Eudes la conjugaison
du verbe : Je ne dois pas refuser de céder ma place à un camarade qui a
renversé sur sa chemise une tartine de confiture. » Eudes n’a rien dit, il
est descendu de sa caisse et il est venu vers le premier rang, tandis qu’Alceste
allait vers le dernier rang. Ça a fait un peu de désordre, surtout quand Eudes
a croisé Alceste et lui a donné un coup de poing sur le nez. Alceste a voulu
donner un coup de pied à Eudes, mais Eudes a esquivé, il est très agile, et c’est
Agnan qui a reçu le pied, heureusement, là où il n’a pas de lunettes. Ça ne l’a
pas empêché, Agnan, de se mettre à pleurer et à hurler qu’il voulait mourir. La
maîtresse l’a consolé, l’a mouché, l’a repeigné et a puni Alceste, il doit écrire
cent fois : « Je ne dois pas battre un camarade qui ne me cherhe pas
noise et qui porte des lunettes. » « C’est bien fait », a dit
Agnan. Alors, la maîtresse lui a donné des lignes à faire, à lui aussi. Agnan,
il a été tellement étonné qu’il n’a même pas pleuré. La maîtresse a commencé
à les distribuer drôlement, les
punitions, on avait tous des tas de lignes à faire et, finalement, la maîtresse
nous a dit : « Maintenant, vous allez vous décider à vous tenir tranquilles.
Si vous êtes très gentils, je lèverai toutes les punitions. Alors, vous allez
bien prendre la pose, faire un joli sourire et le monsieur va nous prendre une
belle photographie ! » Comme nous ne voulion pas faire de la peine à
la maître, on a obéi. Nous avons tous souri et on a pris la pose.
Mais, pour le souvenir que nous allions chérir toute notre vie, c’est raté,
parce qu’on s’est aperçu que le photographe n’était plus là. Il était parti,
sans rien dire.
GREAT EXPECTIONS, BY CHARLES DICKENS - PAGE 02
'What!' he cried, and was about to
run, when he saw where I was pointing. 'Oh!' he said. 'I see, They're dead.
Well, who do you live with, if I let you live, which I haven't decided yet?'
'With my sister,
sir, wife of Joe Gargery, the blacksmith.'
'Blacksmith, you say?' And he
looked down at his leg. Then he held me by both arms and stared fiercely down
into my eyes.
'Now look here. You bring me a
file. You know what that is? And you bring me some food. If you don't, or if
you tell anyone about me, I'll cut your heart out.'
'I promise I'll do it, sir,' I
answered. I was badly frightened and my whole body was trembling.
'You see,' he continued, smiling
unpleasantly, 'I travel with a young man, a friend of mine, who roasts boys'
hearts and eats them. He'll find you, wherever you are, and he'll have your
heart. So bring the file and the food to that wooden shelter over there, early
tomorrow morning, if you want to keep your heart, that is. Remember, you
promised!'
I watched him turn and walk with
difficulty across the marshes, the chain hanging clumsily around his leg. Then
I ran home as fast as I could.
My sister, Mrs. Joe Gargery, was
very proud of the fact that she had brought me up 'by hand'. Nobody explained
to me what this meant, and because she had a hard and heavy hand, which she
used freely on her husband as well as me, I supposed that Joe and I were both
brought up by hand. She was not a beautiful woman, being tall and thin, with
black hair and eyes and a very red face. She clearly felt that Joe and I caused
her a lot of trouble, and she frequently complained about it. Joe, on the other
hand, was a gentle, kind man with fair hair and weak blue eyes, who quietly
accepted her scolding.
Because Joe and I were in the same
position of being scolded by Mrs. Joe, we were good friends, and Joe protected
me from her anger whenever he could.
Dialogue: CHEER UP
Jim: Hi Betty.
Betty: Hi, Jim.
Jim: Say, where's everybody?
Betty: Where's who?
Jim: Well, everybody! Our classmates!
Betty: Oh, I think they're all in the gym.
Jim: What's going on there?
Betty: There's a basketball game going on there.
Jim: Really? Do you know where the dym is?
Betty: Yes, I do.
Jim: And don't you want to go there?
Betty: No, I don't like basketball.
Jim: Is there a place where you want to go instead?
Betty: In fact, there's not. I'm not feeling very well today.
Jim: Oh, what a pity! Let me try to cheer you up.What about an ice-cream cone?
Betty: Hmm! That sounds good! But, where can we have it?
Jim: I know where! There's a new ice-cream parlour just two blocks down the street! What do you say?
Betty: Okay, let's give it a try.
Dialogue: A CASUAL CHAT
Betty: Hello, Jim.
Jim: Hi, Betty
Betty: What's that in your breast-pocket?
Jim: This? Oh, it's my new pen.
Betty: A pen?
Jim: Yes, it's a ball-point pen.
Betty: It’s a
beautiful pen.
Jim: Thank you.
Betty: Look, what’s
that?
Jim: That? Oh, it’s a
jet.
Betty: A jet?
Jim: Yes, an airplane.
Betty: Hey, Jim, who’s that boy?
Jim: What boy?
Betty: That one, with the red shirt!
Jim: Oh, that boy. His name is Jack.
Betty: Is he your friend?
Jim: Yes, he’s an old friend of mine. And who’s that girl?
Betty: Oh, that’s Miss Perkins. She’s the new English teacher.
Jim: Is she the new teacher? She looks so young… and she’s so pretty!
Betty: Watch your step, young man!
Dialogue: MEET BETTY AND JIM
That is Betty. She is
a student too.
Here is Jim. Jim is
here.
There is Betty. Betty
is there.
Jim and Betty are
students.
They are students.
Jim: Good morning. Betty!
Betty: Good morning.
Jim!
Jim: How are you?
Betty: I’m fine, thank
you. How are you?
Jim: Fine, thanks.
A World of Connections
Source: WWW.economist.com (Adapted)
– Jan 28th, 2010
To
sceptics all this talk of twittering, yammering and chattering smacks of
another internet bubble in the making. They argue that even a huge social
network such as Facebook will struggle to make money because fickle networkers
will not stay in one place for long, pointing to the example of MySpace, which
was once all the rage but has now become a shadow of its former self. Last year
the site, which is owned by News Corp, installed a new boss and fired 45% of
its staff as part of a plan to revive its fortunes.
Within
companies there is plenty of doubt about the benefits of online social
networking in the office. A survey of 1,400 chief information officers
conducted last year by Robert Half Technology, a recruitment firm, found that
only one-tenth of them gave employees full accesss to such networks during the
day, and that many were blocking Facebook and Twitter altogether. The
executives’ biggest concern was that social networking would lead to social not
working, with employees using the sites to chat with friends instead of doing
their jobs. Some bosses also fretted that the sites would be used to leak
sensitive corporate information.
There’s a fly in my soup!
An Englisman in a
restaurant found a fly in his soup. He called the waiter. ‘Waiter, there’s a
fly in my soup!’ The waiter looked closely at the soup por a moment and then
relaxed. ‘It’s OK, sir, it’s dead!’
In another version of
the story, the waiter looks quickly at the people sitting at the tables nearby,
lowers his voice and says, ‘Please keep your voice down, sir, or everybody will
want one.’
The surprising thing
about these stories is not the waiter’s response to the complaint, but the
Englishman response to the fly.
Most English people
will go to great lengths to avoid making a fuss. They will accept almost
anything rather than complain-poor service, inferior goods, long queues… even
dead flies.
LES CARACTÉRISTIQUES GÉNÉRALES DU SIGNE DE POISSON
Les natifs des poissons sont fins, patients dociles, tolérants. Parfois ils sont susceptibles et sournois. Parmi leurs traits principaux, en plus d'un caractère compliqué, ils ont beaucoup d'imagination et une extraordinaire capacité d'apprentissage. Ils sont indécis et ne sont pas de bons organisateurs, c'est pourquoi ils préfèrent travailler et vivre sous le guide de quelqu'un. Les professions typiques sont: le footballeur, l'infirmier, le médium, le mécanicien, le photographe. Ils ont un esprit très religieux et sont taillés pour l'art. Comme ils sont très réservés, ce n'est pas facile de les connaître et de les comprendre jusqu'au but. Leurs valeurs fondamentales sont l'amitié et l'amour vrai et durable.
LE MENTEUR
Je voudrais dire la vérité. J’aime la vérité. Mais elle ne m’aime pas. Voilà la vérité vraie: la vérité ne m’aime pas. Dès que jê la dis, elle change de figure et se retourne contre moi. J’ai l’air de mentir et tout le monde me regarde de travers. Et pourtant, je suis simple et je n’aime pas le mensonge. Je le jure. Le mensonge attire toujours des ennuis épouvantables et on se prend les pieds dedans et on trébuche et on tombe e t tout le monde se moque de vous. Si on me demande quelque chose, je veux répondre ce que je pense. Je veux répendre la vérité. La vérité me démange. Mais alors, je ne sais pas ce qui se passe. Je suis pris d’angoisse, de crainte, de la peur d’être ridicule et je mens. Je mens. C’est fait. Il est trop tard pour revenir là-dessous. Et une fois un pied dans le mensenge, il faut que le reste passe. Et ce n’est pas comode, je vous le jure. C’est si facile de dire la vérité. C’est un luxe de paresseux.
SEA FARMS
Have you ever seen a porpoise? It's a sea animal like a dolphin or a small whale. Scientists think it is one of the most intelligent animals in the world.
Professor Toshiro Kuroki, an official of the oceanology center, has said that the "shepherd" porpoises could be extremely effective after a training of three ou four generations. Experiments have shown that porpoises possess intelligence greater than dogs or monkeys and would be ideal for herding. Professor Kuroki sees porpoises herding schools of fish far out at sea and working in teams to drive them toward the Japaneses coast, where they would be forced into net-encircled "fish farms" for fattening. The Japanese oceanology expert has predicted that not only Japan but other countries as well will use porpoises to drive fish into "farm" nets scattered round the vast reaches of the Atlantic and the Pacific.
If this new system works, it will be far cheaper than recent experements in Britain as well as in Japan in which scientists have used land-based fish farms to breed fish for food.
(Adapted from an article in the Australian Financial Times)
FIRST FAMILY
The Queen’s sons are Princes
and her daughter is a Prinncess
When the Princes
marry, their wives automatically become Princesses. In fact when Prince Charles
becomes King, his wife, Princess Diana, will become Queen.
But the present Queen’s
husband is not a King. He is Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh. And Princess
Anne’s husband is not a Prince. He is simply Captain Mark Philips – not even a Duke!
Should this be a
matter for the Women’s Liberation Movement? Or do we need a movement for the
liberation of men?
SHAKING HANDS
English people shake
hands less than their continental brothers an sisters.
It is said, for
instance, that the average Frenchman shakes hands 598 times a month; the
average Englishman shakes hands once or twice a week.
In some countries,
people shake hands with everyone present when they enter a room. In other
countries, friends shake hands every time they meet or part.
Three situations where
English people genrally shake hands are: when they are introduced, when they
are conclude a business deal, and after a disagreement, as a gesture of
reconciliation.
It is curious that
boxers shake hands as a gesture of reconciliation before the disagreement!
THE SWEET SMELL OF SUCCESS (1)
Para traduzir, editar, visualizar ou simplesmente votar na tradução do texto abaixo: Clique Aqui
The Background
to the
Story
***
Afraid
of getting
into a
rut
at
forty,
Sam
Lovat
dicided
to leave
his
comfortable
job
and
go into
business on
his own.
***
Making
perfume
had always been
his hobby.
He
decided
to turn it
to profit.
Diana
and
he
sold
their house
and
moved their
family into a charming house
over
a
shop
in
Woodham,
a
village
near
Oxford.
***
Sam
converted
the
stables
into
a
workshop
and
Diana
had the
shop decorated
in exquisite
taste.
***
Things
have
been going
well.
They
sell
a lot of
perfume
to the
tourists
who
come
to visit
Woodham.
***
But
Sam
wants
to supply
his perfume
to
other
retailers.
THE SWEET SMELL OF SUCCESS (2)
The Background to the Story
Afraid of getting into
a rut at forty, Sam Lovat dicided to leave his comfortable job and go into business
on his own.
Making perfume had
always been his hobby. He decided to turn it to profit. Diana and he sold their
house and moved their family into a charming house over a shop in Woodham, a
village near Oxford.
Sam converted the
stables into a workshop. Diana had the shop decorated in exquisite taste.
Things have been going
well. They sell a lot of perfume to the tourists who come to visit Woodham.
But Sam wants to supply his perfume to other retailers.
O DOCE AROMA DO SUCESSO
Outras Informações Sobre os Lovat
Temendo cair na monotonia dos quarenta anos, Sam Lovat decidiu deixar
seu emprego estável e estabelecer seu próprio negócio.
Fazer perfume sempre tinha sido seu passatempo. Ele decidiu
transformá-lo numa atividade lucrativa. Diana e ele venderam sua casa e a família
mudou-se para uma casa encantadora em cima de uma loja em Woodham, cidadezinha
perto de Oxford.
Sam transformou o estábulo em oficina e Diana decorou a loja com gosto
requintado.
As coisas têm corrido bem. Eles vendem muitos perfumes aos turistas que
vêm visitar Woodham.
Mas Sam quer distribuir seus perfumes a outros comerciantes.
Great Expectations - Charles Dickens - Page 01
My first name was Philip, but when I was a small child I could only manage to say Pip. So Pip was what everybody called me. I lived in a small village in Essex with my sister, who was over twenty years older than me, and married to Joe Gargery, the village blacksmith. My parents had died when I was a baby, so I could not remember them at all, but quite often I used to visit the churchyard, about a mile from the village, to look at their names on their gravestones.
My first memory is of sitting on a gravestone in that churchyard one cold, grey, December afternoon, looking out at the dark, flat, wild marshes divided by the black line of the River Thames, and listening to the rushing sound of the sea in the distance.
'Don't say a word!' Cried a terrible voice, as a man jumped up from among the graves and caught hold of me. 'If you shout I'll cut your throat' He was a big man, dressed all in grey, with an iron chain on his leg. His clothes were wet and torn. He looked exhausted, and hungry, and very fierce. I had never been so frightened in my whole life.
'Oh! Don't cut my throat, sir!' I begged in terror. 'Tell me your name, boy! Quick!' he said still holding me. And show me where you live!'
'My name's Pip, sir. And I live in the village over there.' He picked me up and turned me upside-down. Nothing fell out of my pocket except a piece of old bread. He ate it in two bites, like a dog, and put me back on the gravestone.
'So where are your father and mother?' he asked.
'There, sir,' I answered, pointing to their graves.
▶ FRANCÊS (Links)
Os links
abaixo são de postagens de Exercícios de Tradução de Listas de Palavras, de
Textos Avulsos e de Livros, realizados através de um programa feito no Access e
que infelizmente ainda não está disponível aos visitantes do Blog, pois eu
ainda não descobri uma maneira de torná-lo disponível; e nem mesmo sei se isso
é possível de ser feito! rsrs
Talvez seja o caso de eu ter que refazer todo o
programa, começando do zero, utilizando outras linguagens de programação,
específicas para internet, para poder torná-lo disponível; e isso é algo que exigiria muito tempo e trabalho, os quais eu não sei se eu estou disposto a investir, no
momento. Portanto, estou, simplesmente, postando, para registro pessoal e
histórico, a evolução dos exercícios que eu tenho realizando, aqui, com esse
programa.
Ainda assim, é possível que os visitantes possam aproveitar as postagens
para fazer exercícios, simplesmente, focalizando, visualmente, as colunas em português das
tabelas e mentalizando a tradução para o idioma correspondente, no caso, o
francês, o inglês ou o espanhol e logo, em seguida, conferindo, a
resposta na coluna ao lado. Eu mesmo tenho utilisado essas postagens, como Exercícios
de Mera Revisão Visual, e tenho ficado satisfeito com o resultado.
Assinar:
Postagens (Atom)