Sie suchten nach: he was the only man that i loved so much (Englisch - Tagalog)

he was the only man that i loved so much
a man can only want who he also loves.

he was the only
siya na lang ang natira sa amin

he was the only one
ikaw ang nag-iisang lalaki

he was the only oneik
ikaw ang nag iisang lalaki sa pamilya

happy teacher day to this man that i loved
maligayang araw ng mga guro

you are the person i loved so much but you went with and left me alone
ikaw ang taong minahal ko ng sobra ngunit sumama ka at iniwan mo akong mag-isa

and he was the only straight guy there.
at siya lang ang diretsong lalaki doon.

he was the only one who came to the party.
siya lamang ang dumating sa parti.

i will admit that i loved you too much but, kiel. we have to stop it first because i don't want anyone to hurt me, especially the one i love so much.
aaminin ko na minahal kita nang sobra pero, kiel. kailangan muna natin itong itigil dahil ayoko na may nasasaktan akong tao, lalo na at yung minahal ko pa ng sobra.

i am proud that my grandmother was the only one who raised me. i thanked them because without them i would not be where i am. they treat me so much as my own child. you think 16 days from when i gave birth to them i was even
proud ako na mga lolo at lola lang nag palaki sakin subrang nag papasalamat ako dahil kung wala sila wala ako ngayun saaking kinalalagyan.subra subra pa sa sariling anak ang turing nila sakin.isipin mo 16 days mula pag kapanganak sakin nasa kanila na ako kahit

i remember on december 8 2007 that a trial or tragedy came to us because my grandfather died and in subrange pain i cried and cried because i thought that no one would defend or sympathize with me because he was the only one who understood me and after my grandfather buried me, my mother suddenly left to work in manila so that we could study together because we were poor but my mother also came home soon because we took care of her becquerel
tandang tanda ko pa noong december 8 2007 na may dumating sa amin ang isang pagsubok o trahidya dahil namatay ang lolo ko at sa subrange sakit lumuha ako ng lumuha dahil naisip ko na wala na sa aking magtatanggol o dadamay sa akin dahil sya lang ang nakakaintindi sa akin at pag katapos ilibing ni lolo ay biglaan namang umalis si nanay para magtrabaho sa manila para makapag aral kaming magkakapatid dahil mahirap lang kami pero hindi din nagtagal umuwi din si nanay dahil pina iwi namin sya dahil

auntie happy birthday to you i hope many more birthdays come to you you know that i love you so much you are the only aunt that i love so much you are the one i hide when i keep secret when i cry you are the one i lean on you make me want to be brave be honest sorry my aunt i didn't follow your manga orders once but i love you so much even though i'm stubborn again happy happy birthday to you aunt i love you
tita happy birthday sayo sana marami pang birthday na dumating sayo alam mo naman na mahal na mahal kita ikaw ang nag iisang tita na mahal na mahal ko ikaw yung natataguan ko nang secret ko pag umiiyak ako ikaw yung nasasandalan ko ikaw nag papayobsa akin na maging matapang maging tapat sorry tita kong hindi ko nasusunod nong manga utos mo minsan pero mahal na mahal kita kahit matigas ulo ko again happy happy birthday sayo tita ilove you

when i was 7 years old, my grandmother and i went to church. as we walked into the church i saw an old man sitting outside, he was holding a glass whose contents were coins and he looked pitiful. while i was inside the church that old man was the only thing on my mind and i prayed that the lord would always guide him, my grandmother and i went out and i bought 3 teachings outside, my grandmother wondered why but said
noong ako ay 7 years old, pumunta kami ng aking lola ss simbahan upang magsimba. habang naglalakad kami papasok sa simbahan ay may nakita na akong matanda na nakaupo sa labas, may hawak syang baso na ang laman ay mga barya at nakakaawa syang tingnan. habang nasa loob ako ng simbahan ay ang matandang iyon lamang ang nasa isip ko at aking pinagdasal na sana ay gabayan sya ng panginoon lagi, lumabas na kami ng aking lola at nagpabili ako ng 3 turon sa labas, nagtaka ang lola ko kung bakit pero sabi

a low art [excerpt from the penelopiad] by margaret atwood (canada) now that i’m dead i know everything. this is what i wished would happen, but like so many of my wishes it failed to come true. i know only a few factoids that i didn’t know before. death is much too high a price to pay for the satisfaction of curiosity, needless to say. since being dead — since achieving this state of bonelessness, liplessness, breastlessness —i’ve learned some things i would rather not know, as one does when listening at windows or opening ot her people’s letters. you think you’d like to read minds? think again. down here everyone arrives with a sack, like the sacks used to keep the winds in, but each of these sacks is full of words —words you’ve spoken, words you’ve heard, wo rds that have been said about you. some sacks are very small, others large; my own is of a reasonable size, though a lot of the words in it concern my eminent husband. what a fool he made of me, some say. it was a specialty of his: making fools. he got away with everything, which was another of his specialties: getting away. he was always so plausible. many people have believed that his version of events was the true one, give or take a few murders, a few beautiful seductresses, a few one-eyed monsters. even i believed him, from time to time. i knew he was tricky and a liar, i just didn’t think he would play his tricks and try out his lies on me. hadn’t i been faithful? hadn’t i waited, and waited, and waited, despite the temptation — almost the compulsion — to do otherwise? and what did i amount to, once the official version gained ground? an edifying legend. a stick used to beat other women with. why couldn’t they be as considerate, as trustworthy, as all-suffering as i had been? that was the line they took, the singers, the yarn- spinners. don’t follow my example, i want to scream in your ears — yes, yours! but when i try to scream, i sound like an owl. of course i had inklings, about his slipperiness, his wiliness, his foxiness, his — how can i put this? — his unscrupulousness, but i turned a blind eye. i kept my mouth shut; or if i opened it, i sang his praises. i didn’t contradict, i didn’t ask awkward questions, i didn’t dig deep. i wanted happy endings in those days, and happy endings are best achieved by keeping the right doors locked and going to sleep during the rampages. but after the main events were over and things had become less legendary, i realised how many people were laughing at me behind my back — how they were jeering, making jokes about me, jokes both clean and dirty; how they were turning me into a story, or into several stories, though not the kind of stories i’d prefer to hear about m yself. what can a woman do when scandalous gossip travels the world? if she defends herself she sounds guilty. so i waited some more. now that all the others have run out of air, it’s my t urn to do a little storymaking. i owe it to myself. i’ve had to work myself up to it: it’s a low art, tale-telling. old women go in for it, strolling beggars, blind singers, maidservants, children — folks with time on their hands. once, people would have laughed if i’d tried to play th e minstrel —there’s nothing more preposterous than an aristocrat fumbling around with the arts — but who cares about public opinion now? the opinion of the people down here: the opinions of shadows, of echoes. so i’ll spin a thread of my own.
isang mababang kwento ng sining sa tagalog