Hai cercato la traduzione di what was the main idea of the fi... da Spagnolo a Inglese

captain william swift was the first captain of the new battleship.
captain william swift was the first captain of the new battleship.

1. what was the extent of the chernobyl accident?
1. what was the extent of the chernobyl accident?

he was the first member of the u.s. army to be awarded the medal of honor for actions performed in southeast asia while in captivity.
he was the first member of the u.s. army to be awarded the medal of honor for actions performed in southeast asia while in captivity.

joe was the first graduate of the uiwa west coast dojo, training under cincinnati red, along with johnny hemp and, occasionally, john delayo.
== professional wrestling career ==joe was the first graduate of the uiwa west coast dojo, training under cincinnati red, along with johnny hemp and, occasionally, john delayo.

"* george e. mayer, rear admiral, u.s. navy "mayer was the first hispanic commander of the naval safety center.
"* george e. mayer, rear admiral, u.s. navy "mayer was the first hispanic commander of the naval safety center.

"* héctor andrés negroni, colonel, u.s. air force negroni was the first puerto rican graduate of the united states air force academy.
"* héctor andrés negroni, colonel, u.s. air force" negroni was the first puerto rican graduate of the united states air force academy.

within months of the declaration of the european war in 1914; japan, australia and new zealand seized all german possessions in the south west pacific.
within months of the declaration of the european war in 1914; japan, australia and new zealand seized all german possessions in the south west pacific.

his most significant influence was the introduction of the idea of wild gardening, which first appeared in "the wild garden" and was futher developed in "the english flower garden".
his most significant influence was the introduction of the idea of wild gardening, which first appeared in "the wild garden" and was further developed in "the english flower garden".

"the naval history of great britain from the declaration of war by france in february 1793 to the accession of george iv in january 1820: with an account of the origin and progressive increase of the british navy.
"the naval history of great britain from the declaration of war by france in february 1793 to the accession of george iv in january 1820: with an account of the origin and progressive increase of the british navy.

* antonio rodríguez balinas, brigadier general, u.s. army "rodríguez balinas was the first commander of the office of the first u.s. army deputy command.
* antonio rodríguez balinas, brigadier general, u.s. army"rodríguez balinas was the first commander of the office of the first u.s. army deputy command.

"* maría de las mercedes barbudo political activist mercedes barbudo is considered to be the first female from puerto rico "independentista" meaning that she was the woman to become an avid advocate of the puerto rican independence.".
"* maría de las mercedes barbudo political activist " mercedes barbudo is considered to be the first female from puerto rico "independentista" meaning that she was the woman to become an avid advocate of the puerto rican independence.".

=== hosts and other personnel ===when "the x factor" began in 2005, daniel macpherson was the main host of the show and chloe maxwell was the host of spin off show, "the xtra factor".
===hosts and other personnel===when "the x factor" began in 2005, daniel macpherson was the main host of the show and chloe maxwell was the host of spin off show, "the xtra factor".

"* enrique méndez, jr., major general, u.s. army "méndez was the first puerto rican to assume the positions of army deputy surgeon general, commander of the walter reed army medical center y assistant secretary of defense for health affairs.
"* enrique méndez, jr., major general, u.s. army"méndez was the first puerto rican to assume the positions of army deputy surgeon general, commander of the walter reed army medical center and assistant secretary of defense for health affairs.

"* carmelo delgado delgado, teniente, abraham lincoln international brigade "delgado was the first puerto rican y one of the first u.s. citizens to fight y to die in the spanish civil war against general francisco franco y the spanish nationalists".
"* carmelo delgado delgado, lieutenant, abraham lincoln international brigade"delgado was the first puerto rican and one of the first u.s. citizens to fight and to die in the spanish civil war against general francisco franco and the spanish nationalists".

questionnaire sent jointly by the special rapporteur on trafficking in persons, esp. in women and children and the special rapporteur on the sale of children, child prostitution, and child pornography on demand for commercial sexual exploitation and trafficking and demand for sexual services deriving from exploitation and questionnaire aimed at identifying the main areas of progress and the remaining challenges that need to be addressed in relation to the implementation of the declaration on the right and responsibility of individuals, groups and organs of society to promote and protect universally recognised human rights and fundamental freedoms.
questionnaire sent jointly by the special rapporteur on trafficking in persons, esp. in women and children and the special rapporteur on the sale of children, child prostitution, and child pornography on demand for commercial sexual exploitation and trafficking and demand for sexual services deriving from exploitation and questionnaire aimed at identifying the main areas of progress and the remaining challenges that need to be addressed in relation to the implementation of the declaration on the right and responsibility of individuals, groups and organs of society to promote and protect universally recognised human rights and fundamental freedoms.

* dr. dolores piñero, u.s. army medical corps "piñero, who despite the fact that she was not an active member of the military, was the first puerto rican woman doctor to serve in the army under contract during world war i.
* dolores piñero, u.s. army medical corps"piñero, who despite the fact that she was not an active member of the military, was the first puerto rican woman doctor to serve in the army under contract during world war i.

el tema de debate fue: be it resolved that poverty invalidates the statement in the first section of the universal declaration of human rights: `all human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights' (sépase que la pobreza anula lo expresado en el artículo 1 de la declaración universal de derechos humanos: `todos los seres humanos nacen libres e iguales en dignidad y derechos').
the subject of discussion was: be it resolved that poverty invalidates the statement in the first article of the universal declaration of human rights: `all human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights'.

“jane eyre” by charlotte brontë (fragment pags. 267 y 268. traductor juan g. de luaces; introducción marta pessarrodona) “farewell!” was the cry of my heart as i left him. despair added, “farewell for ever!”. that night i never thought to sleep; but a slumber fell on me as soon as i lay down in bed. i was transported in thought to the scenes of childhood: i dreamt i lay in the red-room at gateshead; that the night was dark, and my mind impressed with strange fears. the light that long ago had struck me into syncope, recalled in this vision, seemed glindingly to mount the wall, and tremblingly to pause in the centre of the obscured ceiling. i lifted up my head to look: the roof resolved to clouds, high and dim; the gleam was such as the moon imparts to vapours she is about to sever. i watched her come—watched with the strangest anticipation; as though some word of doom were to be written on her disk. she broke forth as never moon yet burst from cloud: a hand first penetrated the sable folds and waved them away; then, not a moon, but a white human form shone in the azure, inclining a glorious brow earthward. it gazed and gazed on me. it spoke to my spirit: immeasurably distant was the tone, yet so near, it whispered in my heart— “my daughter, flee temptation.” “mother, i will.” so i answered after i had waked from the trance-like dream. it was yet night, but july nights are short: soon after midnight, dawn comes. “it cannot be too early to commence the task i have to fulfil,” thought i. i rose: i was dressed; for i had taken off nothing but my shoes. i knew where to find in my drawers some linen, a locket, a ring. in seeking these articles, i encountered the beads of a pearl necklace mr. rochester had forced me to accept a few days ago. i left that; it was not mine: it was the visionary bride’s who had melted in air. the other articles i made up in a parcel; my purse, containing twenty shillings (it was all i had), i put in my pocket: i tied on my straw bonnet, pinned my shawl, took the parcel and my slippers, which i would not put on yet, and stole from my room. “farewell, kind mrs. fairfax!” i whispered, as i glided past her door. “farewell, my darling adèle!” i said, as i glanced towards the nursery. no thought could be admitted of entering to embrace her. i had to deceive a fine ear: for aught i knew it might now be listening. i would have got past mr. rochester’s chamber without a pause; but my heart momentarily stopping its beat at that threshold, my foot was forced to stop also. no sleep was there: the inmate was walking restlessly from wall to wall; and again and again he sighed while i listened. there was a heaven—a temporary heaven—in this room for me, if i chose: i had but to go in and to say— “mr. rochester, i will love you and live with you through life till death,” and a fount of rapture would spring to my lips. i thought of this. that kind master, who could not sleep now, was waiting with impatience for day. he would send for me in the morning; i should be gone. he would have me sought for: vainly. he would feel himself forsaken; his love rejected: he would suffer; perhaps grow desperate. i thought of this too. my hand moved towards the lock: i caught it back, and glided on. drearily i wound my way downstairs: i knew what i had to do, and i did it mechanically. i sought the key of the side-door in the kitchen; i sought, too, a phial of oil and a feather; i oiled the key and the lock. i got some water, i got some bread: for perhaps i should have to walk far; and my strength, sorely shaken of late, must not break down. all this i did without one sound. i opened the door, passed out, shut it softly. dim dawn glimmered in the yard. the great gates were closed and locked; but a wicket in one of them was only latched. through that i departed: it, too, i shut; and now i was out of thornfield. a mile off, beyond the fields, lay a road which stretched in the contrary direction to millcote; a road i had never travelled, but often noticed, and wondered where it led: thither i bent my steps. no reflection was to be allowed now: not one glance was to be cast back; not even one forward. not one thought was to be given either to the past or the future. the first was a page so heavenly sweet—so deadly sad—that to read one line of it would dissolve my courage and break down my energy. the last was an awful blank: something like the world when the deluge was gone by. i skirted fields, and hedges, and lanes till after sunrise. i believe it was a lovely summer morning: i know my shoes, which i had put on when i left the house, were soon wet with dew. but i looked neither to rising sun, nor smiling sky, nor wakening nature. he who is taken out to pass through a fair scene to the scaffold, thinks not of the flowers that smile on his road, but of the block and axe-edge; of the disseverment of bone and vein; of the grave gaping at the end: and i thought of drear flight and homeless wandering—and oh! with agony i thought of what i left. i could not help it. i thought of him now—in his room—watching the sunrise; hoping i should soon come to say i would stay with him and be his. i longed to be his; i panted to return: it was not too late; i could yet spare him the bitter pang of bereavement. as yet my flight, i was sure, was undiscovered. i could go back and be his comforter—his pride; his redeemer from misery, perhaps from ruin. oh, that fear of his self-abandonment—far worse than my abandonment—how it goaded me! it was a barbed arrow-head in my breast; it tore me when i tried to extract it; it sickened me when remembrance thrust it farther in. birds began singing in brake and copse: birds were faithful to their mates; birds were emblems of love. %e2%80%9cjane%20eyre%e2%80%9d%20by%20charlotte%20bront%c3%ab
“jane eyre” by charlotte brontë (fragment pags. 267 y 268. traductor juan g. de luaces; introducción marta pessarrodona) “farewell!” was the cry of my heart as i left him. despair added, “farewell for ever!”. that night i never thought to sleep; but a slumber fell on me as soon as i lay down in bed. i was transported in thought to the scenes of childhood: i dreamt i lay in the red-room at gateshead; that the night was dark, and my mind impressed with strange fears. the light that long ago had struck me into syncope, recalled in this vision, seemed glindingly to mount the wall, and tremblingly to pause in the centre of the obscured ceiling. i lifted up my head to look: the roof resolved to clouds, high and dim; the gleam was such as the moon imparts to vapours she is about to sever. i watched her come—watched with the strangest anticipation; as though some word of doom were to be written on her disk. she broke forth as never moon yet burst from cloud: a hand first penetrated the sable folds and waved them away; then, not a moon, but a white human form shone in the azure, inclining a glorious brow earthward. it gazed and gazed on me. it spoke to my spirit: immeasurably distant was the tone, yet so near, it whispered in my heart— “my daughter, flee temptation.” “mother, i will.” so i answered after i had waked from the trance-like dream. it was yet night, but july nights are short: soon after midnight, dawn comes. “it cannot be too early to commence the task i have to fulfil,” thought i. i rose: i was dressed; for i had taken off nothing but my shoes. i knew where to find in my drawers some linen, a locket, a ring. in seeking these articles, i encountered the beads of a pearl necklace mr. rochester had forced me to accept a few days ago. i left that; it was not mine: it was the visionary bride’s who had melted in air. the other articles i made up in a parcel; my purse, containing twenty shillings (it was all i had), i put in my pocket: i tied on my straw bonnet, pinned my shawl, took the parcel and my slippers, which i would not put on yet, and stole from my room. “farewell, kind mrs. fairfax!” i whispered, as i glided past her door. “farewell, my darling adèle!” i said, as i glanced towards the nursery. no thought could be admitted of entering to embrace her. i had to deceive a fine ear: for aught i knew it might now be listening. i would have got past mr. rochester’s chamber without a pause; but my heart momentarily stopping its beat at that threshold, my foot was forced to stop also. no sleep was there: the inmate was walking restlessly from wall to wall; and again and again he sighed while i listened. there was a heaven—a temporary heaven—in this room for me, if i chose: i had but to go in and to say— “mr. rochester, i will love you and live with you through life till death,” and a fount of rapture would spring to my lips. i thought of this. that kind master, who could not sleep now, was waiting with impatience for day. he would send for me in the morning; i should be gone. he would have me sought for: vainly. he would feel himself forsaken; his love rejected: he would suffer; perhaps grow desperate. i thought of this too. my hand moved towards the lock: i caught it back, and glided on. drearily i wound my way downstairs: i knew what i had to do, and i did it mechanically. i sought the key of the side-door in the kitchen; i sought, too, a phial of oil and a feather; i oiled the key and the lock. i got some water, i got some bread: for perhaps i should have to walk far; and my strength, sorely shaken of late, must not break down. all this i did without one sound. i opened the door, passed out, shut it softly. dim dawn glimmered in the yard. the great gates were closed and locked; but a wicket in one of them was only latched. through that i departed: it, too, i shut; and now i was out of thornfield. a mile off, beyond the fields, lay a road which stretched in the contrary direction to millcote; a road i had never travelled, but often noticed, and wondered where it led: thither i bent my steps. no reflection was to be allowed now: not one glance was to be cast back; not even one forward. not one thought was to be given either to the past or the future. the first was a page so heavenly sweet—so deadly sad—that to read one line of it would dissolve my courage and break down my energy. the last was an awful blank: something like the world when the deluge was gone by. i skirted fields, and hedges, and lanes till after sunrise. i believe it was a lovely summer morning: i know my shoes, which i had put on when i left the house, were soon wet with dew. but i looked neither to rising sun, nor smiling sky, nor wakening nature. he who is taken out to pass through a fair scene to the scaffold, thinks not of the flowers that smile on his road, but of the block and axe-edge; of the disseverment of bone and vein; of the grave gaping at the end: and i thought of drear flight and homeless wandering—and oh! with agony i thought of what i left. i could not help it. i thought of him now—in his room—watching the sunrise; hoping i should soon come to say i would stay with him and be his. i longed to be his; i panted to return: it was not too late; i could yet spare him the bitter pang of bereavement. as yet my flight, i was sure, was undiscovered. i could go back and be his comforter—his pride; his redeemer from misery, perhaps from ruin. oh, that fear of his self-abandonment—far worse than my abandonment—how it goaded me! it was a barbed arrow-head in my breast; it tore me when i tried to extract it; it sickened me when remembrance thrust it farther in. birds began singing in brake and copse: birds were faithful to their mates; birds were emblems of love. “jane eyre” by charlotte brontë