検索ワード: i played dumb but i knew it (英語 - タガログ語)

i played dumb but i always knew
naglaro ako ng hangal ngunit alam ko it

i play dumb but i always knew
i play pipi ngunit ako palaging alam

i knew it
sabi ko na nga ba

now i knew it
now i know

i knew it already
alam ko na yan

at first i knew it
alam ko una pa lang

but i knew once staring kissing
hindi ko alam kung ano ang kulang sa akin

i knew it, he wants me!
sabi ko na ba gusto niya ako!

i knew it would happen eventually
alam ko na mangyayari sa huli

but i knew he was just there next to me
alam ko kaya moyan nandito lang ako lage para sayoe

but i knew in myself that i was a good man
pero alam ko sa sarili ko na mabuti akong tao

i couldn't sleep last night because i knew it is over between us
hindi makatulog

i knew better, but i chose to remain silent.
mas pinili ko nalang magpangap na walang alam

i learned to clean the teacher's desks because i knew it wouldn't be difficult because of their fatigue so i learned to help
natuto ako na linisin ang mga lamesa ng teacher kasi alam kung hindi na mahsrap dahil sa kapaguran nila kaya natuto akong tumulong

i knew i loved you then but you'd never know 'cause i played it cool when i was scared of letting go i know i needed you but i never showed but i wanna stay with you until we're grey and old just say you won't let go just say you won't let go
alam ko minahal kita noon pero hindi mo alam 'cause i played it cool when i was scared of letting go i know i need you but i never showed but i wanna stay with you until we' re grey and old just say you won 't let go just say you won' t let go

to the point that i became a compulsive eater at that time i did not know how much i ate, what i knew about myself, what my body knew, my mind knew, my stomach knew i was full me but i continued to eat until my mother and grandmother scolded me because they said i ate food without stopping but that time i did not know as long as i just wanted to eat i ate
to the point na nagiging compulsive eater nadin ako nung panahon na yon yung wala na akong pakealam kung gaano man karami yung nakakain ko, yung alam ko sa sarili ko, alam ng katawan ko, alam ng isip ko, alam ng tiyan ko na busog na ako pero tuloy padin ako sa pagkain hanggang sa napapagalitan na ako ng nanay at lola ko kasi kain daw ako ng kain walang tigil pero that time hindi ko alam basta gusto ko lang kumain ako ng kumain

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