Results for what your doing translation from French to English

you make us proud. keep doing what your doing...
derrik kato - 9/11/2005 [19:40]beaumont, alberta canada see you all after high school.

have a great day and thank you for what your doing.
8, im in grade 8, we had our rememberance day ceremony today it was good.

i love what your wearing.
i love what your wearing.

«do you know what your pc really costs?
materna, robert and peter s. gries.

and that is what your blog is about to me; passion.
and that is what your blog is about to me; passion.

i really hope you suceed in what your doing. i hope all of you make it back for the christmas holidays and spend it with your family.
you are a true testament to how canadian citizens are viewed throughout the world and myself and my family appreciate it greatly.

• votre collègue a dit que … what your colleague just said was …
• what your colleague just said was ..., votre collègue a dit que…

"that is just what your adversary most passionately desires," replied lodovico.
– c’est ce que votre adversaire désire avec le plus de passion, répliqua ludovic.

but it was fun i am 9 coming 10 and at school is fun and thanks for saving canada we are having a service, i like canada.goodbye i hope you get back to your family safely. thanks for what your doing.
oilers are still suck.do you like hockey? tomarrow is our rememberance ceromony at school. where doing a song called a song of peace.what country are you in, thank you for peace.

and think what your court will be when i am no longer here to extricate it by force from its innate dulness and mischief."
et songez à ce que sera votre cour quand je n’y serai plus pour la tirer par force de sa platitude et de sa méchanceté naturelles.

2.2.2 identify what your simulation does best it is important at this time to take a moment to consider the purpose for which your simulation was originally developed.
with transformational leadership and coherent management, we will build upon our proud heritage in pursuit of clear strategic objectives."

"may i ask, my lad," i said, in the blandest voice, "what your trade may be?"
« dites-moi, l’ami, dis-je en prenant ma voix la plus aimable, puis-je vous demander quelle est votre profession ?

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