Usted buscó: to paint (Inglés - Tagalo)

to paint
para ipinta

liliha to paint
nag liliha

i teach her how to paint
para ipinta

would you be able to paint my face?
kaya mo ba e drawing mukha ko

when i was a kid, i wanted to paint
nung bata pa ako gustong gusto ko na mag luto

life is colorful when you know how to paint it
life is colorful when you know how to paint it

tom didn't need to paint the fence. they tore it down a week after he painted it.
hindi kinailangang pintahin ni tom ang bakod. iyon ay inalis nila isang linggo pagkatapos niyang pintahin.

what i learned in mapeh was my recognition of the various artists in the days of empressionism and their composition, and i learned to paint and run the pe and arts component quickly. thank you very much.
ang natutunan ko sa mapeh ay ang pagkilala ko sa mga iba't ibang artist noong araw nang empressionism at ang mga komposisyon nila, natuto rin akung magpinta at tumakbo nang mabilis sa component nang p.e at arts. yun lang po salamat.

i chose fashion because you can do a lot of hard work and so on to paint so that you can save and build your own store and to paint a lot and can also create and what you want to design so that your store can do well and that way your store will grow and you can do online clothing to make it more
pinili ko ang fashion dahil pwede kang gumawa ng maraming dahit at iba pa para ibinta ng saganun ay makapag ipon ka at magpatayo ng sariling tindahan at para makapag binta ng marami at pwede ring magpagawa at kung anong gusto mong desinyo ng saganun ay magawa ng maayos at nang sa ganun ay lumago ang iyong tindahan at pwede kang mag online clothing para mas lumago ito

many artists lived in the greenwich village area of new york. two young women named sue and johnsy shared a studio apartment at the top of a three-story building. johnsy's real name was joanna. in november, a cold, unseen stranger came to visit the city. this disease, pneumonia, killed many people. johnsy lay on her bed, hardly moving. she looked through the small window. she could see the side of the brick house next to her building. one morning, a doctor examined johnsy and took her temperature. then he spoke with sue in another room. "she has one chance in -- let us say ten," he said. "and that chance is for her to want to live. your friend has made up her mind that she is not going to get well. has she anything on her mind?" "she -- she wanted to paint the bay of naples in italy some day," said sue. "paint?" said the doctor. "bosh! has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice -- a man for example?" "a man?" said sue. "is a man worth -- but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind." "i will do all that science can do," said the doctor. "but whenever my patient begins to count the carriages at her funeral, i take away fifty percent from the curative power of medicines." after the doctor had gone, sue went into the workroom and cried. then she went to johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime. johnsy lay with her face toward the window. sue stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep. she began making a pen and ink drawing for a story in a magazine. young artists must work their way to "art" by making pictures for magazine stories. sue heard a low sound, several times repeated. she went quickly to the bedside. johnsy's eyes were open wide. she was looking out the window and counting -- counting backward. "twelve," she said, and a little later "eleven"; and then "ten" and "nine;" and then "eight" and "seven," almost together. sue looked out the window. what was there to count? there was only an empty yard and the blank side of the house seven meters away. an old ivy vine, going bad at the roots, climbed half way up the wall. the cold breath of autumn had stricken leaves from the plant until its branches, almost bare, hung on the bricks. "what is it, dear?" asked sue. "six," said johnsy, quietly. "they're falling faster now. three days ago there were almost a hundred. it made my head hurt to count them. but now it's easy. there goes another one. there are only five left now." "five what, dear?" asked sue. "leaves. on the plant. when the last one falls i must go, too. i've known that for three days. didn't the doctor tell you?" "oh, i never heard of such a thing," said sue. "what have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? and you used to love that vine. don't be silly. why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were -- let's see exactly what he said – he said the chances were ten to one! try to eat some soup now. and, let me go back to my drawing, so i can sell it to the magazine and buy food and wine for us." "you needn't get any more wine," said johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "there goes another one. no, i don't want any soup. that leaves just four. i want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. then i'll go, too." "johnsy, dear," said sue, "will you promise me to keep your eyes closed, and not look out the window until i am done working? i must hand those drawings in by tomorrow." "tell me as soon as you have finished," said johnsy, closing her eyes and lying white and still as a fallen statue. "i want to see the last one fall. i'm tired of waiting. i'm tired of thinking. i want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves."
c / ang huling dahon ng o henry