Results for fortunate translation from French to English

this is the fortunate time!
this is the fortunate time!

i only hope i will be as fortunate.
i only hope i will be as fortunate.

for me, i am fortunate in that i have a chest port.
for me, i am fortunate in that i have a chest port.

the same night she was fortunate enough to have a letter conveyed to him in a leaden ball.
la même nuit elle eut le bonheur de lui faire parvenir une lettre dans une balle de plomb.

i think its amazing how you could go somewhere out of your own will and help people who are less fortunate then we are.
kathy - 11/6/2005 [12:45]calgary, alberta canada thank you, thank you, thank you.. for all you are giving, for all you have given, for all you are about to give.

the next time i see you on television, i will think twice about everything i have and of how fortunate i am.
you guys make a difference everyday and because of that i am very grateful, and i'm sure everyone else is!!

the defenders on the sanchil ridge were less fortunate and now effectively cut off the savoia grenadiers and bersaglieri were left with no option but surrender.
the defenders on the sanchil ridge were less fortunate and now effectively cut off the savoia grenadiers and bersaglieri were left with no option but surrender.

avantages d'adhésion members are fortunate to have displays of local artifacts in which to educate and pass on to visitors and the next generation.
member privileges members are fortunate to have displays of local artifacts in which to educate and pass on to visitors and the next generation.

fortunate exile (1987), son quarante-septième ouvrage, comporte des poèmes déjà publiés sur les juifs.
fortunate exile (1987), his 47th book, contained previously published poems about jews.

on peut d’abord entendre un rock ‘n’ roll pur sur «fortunate son» en compagnie des foo fighters.
first we can hear pure rock 'n' roll on "fortunate son" along with the foo fighters.

on y présente aussi quelques reprises efficaces comme eux seuls savent le faire, comme par exemple "fortunate son" des légendaires creedence clearwater revival.
they also presented a few effective covers like only them can do, like for example "fortunate son" of the legendaries creedence clearwater revival.

histoire humaine the museum is very fortunate to have in it's collection over 200 maps; the bowron collection of placer mines and a cpr steamship & railway map dated 1911 and many more.
human history the museum is very fortunate to have in it's collection over 200 maps; the bowron collection of placer mines and a cpr steamship & railway map dated 1911 and many more.

brittany palmer a commencé à faire du bénévolat en 1998, dans le cadre du programme anton's feed the less fortunate, qui sert environ 500 repas chauds aux sans-abri la veille de noël.
brittany palmer's volunteer work began in 1998 with anton's feed the less fortunate program, serving about 500 hot meals to the homeless on christmas eve.

bang bang bang! gunshots chased through the alley way, as i looked left and right i saw a bunch of dead civillians. i was in shock sneakly twisting myself around, ''micheal''( photographer)i whispered, ''yeah, did you just see that, that was crazy!'' he responded nervoulsy loud. i clutch on to micheal with force shoving my hand over his mouth sealing it ''what do you think your doing , do you want to die.'' i muttered in michaels ear. we need to split up michael suggested sudden two men approached me wearing; thermal synthetic, silk black balaclavas, and scatty pants and boots. however, one of these guys couldn't speak english ''where you from?'' asked the suspected criminal with an east african accent, i replied, ''united kingdom sir.'' ''now, what's a wealthy man like you doing in a wasteland like this?'' ''urm...'' he screwed up his face as if it were paper. ''tourist'' i responded slowly breaking a sweat. '' i dont believe you'' he said with a slight smirk ''whats going on'' echoed in the mist, i quickly turned my head 90 degrees south. the man struck his firearm in my face, shaking from left to right unsure whats going on, it appeared to be my cameraman micheal ''lets go'' he shouted in a high pitched voice. i ran like usain bolt adrenaline rushed through my body, the intense feeling of death around the corner felt cold, bang bang bang... for every gunshot there was a heartbeat. '' come on'' micheal screamed, bang! ''no!..'' sympathy did not exist at this point i had to carry on ''everyman for himself.'' ''just keep running'' i told myself exhaling deeply, ''no more running, no more gunshots, and no more dead bodies, just silence!'' letting the winds pass through my fingers knowing i'm at safety. beep beep ! ''do you need lift my friend?'' a cab driver said out of the bloom, as i got into the cab ''yes to the airport please '' i responded in a shocked humour. ''you leaving my friend?'' cab driver asked ''yeah i'm done here, was just a photographer, helping poor parts of africa become more fortunate unfortunately my help was not needed, you see life's not a story its reality.'' ''wait why did i lie to them...'' ''guess that doesn't matter anymore just lost a colleague '' i said to myself, ''what you talking about my friend?'' the cab driver interfered ''sigh nothing'' as i stared out the window having short flashbacks of what just happend, its like it all took place in a split second. meanwhile, later that day... i finally arrived at the airport it was pitch black, night time the time remained unknown. beeep beep, the cab driver beeped his horn, appeared to be wanting something, ''where's my money my friend?'' ''oh! yeah here. i casually handed over the drivers change. ''bye now'' the cab driver said, i marched as fast as i could into the airport, as, my head drifted in the direction of the airports television everything was coming back to me again ''grr'' i grunted, it seemed to be what just happend earlier ''they has been ruthless murdering spree going on we will investigate more be sure to tune in: itn news'' the tv had just mentioned. the gutted feeling you have when you know who the fugitives of a crime was, but i couldn't let that phase me i took like a brush to the shoulder and booked my flight. united kingdom! had been tanoid i knew it was my time to say good bye. gunshots! i dont believe you... lets go! noo!... no more running no more gunshots nore more died bodies lifes not a story its realitypunctuation
autobang bang bang! gunshots chased through the alley way, as i looked left and right i saw a bunch of dead civillians. i was in shock sneakly twisting myself around, ''micheal''( photographer)i whispered, ''yeah, did you just see that, that was crazy!'' he responded nervoulsy loud. i clutch on to micheal with force shoving my hand over his mouth sealing it ''what do you think your doing , do you want to die.'' i muttered in michaels ear. we need to split up michael suggested sudden two men approached me wearing; thermal synthetic, silk black balaclavas, and scatty pants and boots. however, one of these guys couldn't speak english ''where you from?'' asked the suspected criminal with an east african accent, i replied, ''united kingdom sir.'' ''now, what's a wealthy man like you doing in a wasteland like this?'' ''urm...'' he screwed up his face as if it were paper. ''tourist'' i responded slowly breaking a sweat. '' i dont believe you'' he said with a slight smirk ''whats going on'' echoed in the mist, i quickly turned my head 90 degrees south. the man struck his firearm in my face, shaking from left to right unsure whats going on, it appeared to be my cameraman micheal ''lets go'' he shouted in a high pitched voice. i ran like usain bolt adrenaline rushed through my body, the intense feeling of death around the corner felt cold, bang bang bang... for every gunshot there was a heartbeat. '' come on'' micheal screamed, bang! ''no!..'' sympathy did not exist at this point i had to carry on ''everyman for himself.'' ''just keep running'' i told myself exhaling deeply, ''no more running, no more gunshots, and no more dead bodies, just silence!'' letting the winds pass through my fingers knowing i'm at safety. beep beep ! ''do you need lift my friend?'' a cab driver said out of the bloom, as i got into the cab ''yes to the airport please '' i responded in a shocked humour. ''you leaving my friend?'' cab driver asked ''yeah i'm done here, was just a photographer, helping poor parts of africa become more fortunate unfortunately my help was not needed, you see life's not a story its reality.'' ''wait why did i lie to them...'' ''guess that doesn't matter anymore just lost a colleague '' i said to myself, ''what you talking about my friend?'' the cab driver interfered ''sigh nothing'' as i stared out the window having short flashbacks of what just happend, its like it all took place in a split second. meanwhile, later that day... i finally arrived at the airport it was pitch black, night time the time remained unknown. beeep beep, the cab driver beeped his horn, appeared to be wanting something, ''where's my money my friend?'' ''oh! yeah here. i casually handed over the drivers change. ''bye now'' the cab driver said, i marched as fast as i could into the airport, as, my head drifted in the direction of the airports television everything was coming back to me again ''grr'' i grunted, it seemed to be what just happend earlier ''they has been ruthless murdering spree going on we will investigate more be sure to tune in: itn news'' the tv had just mentioned. the gutted feeling you have when you know who the fugitives of a crime was, but i couldn't let that phase me i took like a brush to the shoulder and booked my flight. united kingdom! had been tanoid i knew it was my time to say good bye. gunshots! i dont believe you... lets go! noo!... no more running no more gunshots nore more died bodies lifes not a story its reality