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Inglês

Tagalo

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Inglês

i wouldn't be the person i am today

Tagalo

You wouldn't be who you are today

Última atualização: 2020-03-20
Frequência de uso: 1
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Referência: Anônimo

Inglês

I love the person I love the most

Tagalo

Yung taong mahal ko di ako mah

Última atualização: 2020-04-04
Frequência de uso: 1
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Referência: Anônimo

Inglês

I love the person I love the most

Tagalo

yung mahal ako

Última atualização: 2020-03-19
Frequência de uso: 1
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Referência: Anônimo

Inglês

if it weren't for him I wouldn't be here

Tagalo

Kung hindi dahil sa pagsisikap niya hindi ako magkakaganito ngayon

Última atualização: 2019-07-31
Frequência de uso: 1
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Referência: Anônimo

Inglês

The person I admire essay

Tagalo

ang taong aking hinahangaan essay

Última atualização: 2016-02-29
Frequência de uso: 2
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Referência: Anônimo

Inglês

The person I admire essay

Tagalo

gwapo talaga ako

Última atualização: 2015-02-27
Frequência de uso: 1
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Referência: Johnderick22

Inglês

to the person I wish to pursue

Tagalo

para sa aking nililigawan

Última atualização: 2019-09-10
Frequência de uso: 1
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Referência: Anônimo

Inglês

I wouldn't be too surprised if Tom didn't show up on time.

Tagalo

Hindi na ako magugulat kung mahuli si Tom.

Última atualização: 2014-02-01
Frequência de uso: 1
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Referência: Anônimo

Inglês

thanks for accepting what I am today

Tagalo

Salamat kasi naging part ka ng buhay ko

Última atualização: 2020-03-21
Frequência de uso: 1
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Referência: Anônimo

Inglês

The person I love doesn't care about me

Tagalo

Hindi ko alm kong mahal nya ko o mahal nya lang ako pag ala yung mga lalakeng kachat nya

Última atualização: 2020-05-09
Frequência de uso: 1
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Referência: Anônimo

Inglês

She's just not the person I thought she was.

Tagalo

Iba siya sa inaakala ko.

Última atualização: 2014-02-01
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Referência: Anônimo

Inglês

i dont ask you to love me always like this but i ask you to remember somewhere inside of me there will always be the person i am tonight

Tagalo

huwag i hilingin sa iyong pag-ibig sa akin palaging ganito ngunit hilingin sa i tandaan ang isang lugar ka sa loob ng akin doon ay palaging magiging ang pers sa i am ngayong gabi

Última atualização: 2015-01-31
Frequência de uso: 1
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Referência: Anônimo

Inglês

You are the person I suddenly liked but I didn't think I'd hit it hard

Tagalo

Ikaw Yung taong bigla ko lang ginusto pero Hindi ko akalaing tatamaan ako ng husto

Última atualização: 2019-12-16
Frequência de uso: 2
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Referência: Anônimo

Inglês

I am going to be the voice of incontinence.

Tagalo

Ako ang magiging voice para sa mga taong hindi mapigil ang pagtae.

Última atualização: 2016-10-27
Frequência de uso: 1
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Referência: Anônimo

Inglês

Why does my fault for taking the person I love maybe because you just flirty

Tagalo

bakit ano ang kasalanan ko para agawin ang taong mahal ko siguro kasi malandi ka lang

Última atualização: 2017-01-24
Frequência de uso: 1
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Referência: Anônimo

Inglês

for me my reason is that you are the one I love because it truly is my love for you..and you are the man I will never forget..when we reach out to each other it immediately turns to reality you to me because i'm happy you are the one i always talk to when i think there is still hope for both of us to get along because we are far from each other..then I was scared to lose the person I loved so much

Tagalo

para sa akin ang rason ko kung bakit ikaw yong minahal ko kasi ang toto niyan tunay na ang pagmamahal ko sa iyo..at ikaw yong lalaking hindi ko makalimutan..kahit naaabot tayo sa hiwalay ay nagkabalikan agad sa totoo niyan hidni ko kaya na mawala ka sa akin dahil masaya ako na ikaw yong kausap ko palagi minsan naisip ko na may pag asa pa ba tayong dalawang mag saman kasi malayo tayo sa isat isa..kaya minsan natakot akong mawala ang taong minahal kong lubusan

Última atualização: 2019-11-27
Frequência de uso: 2
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Referência: Anônimo

Inglês

I Once when I was six years old I saw a magnificent picture in a book, called True Stories from Nature, about the primeval forest. It was a picture of a boa constrictor in the act of swallowing an animal. Here is a copy of the drawing. Boa In the book it said: "Boa constrictors swallow their prey whole, without chewing it. After that they are not able to move, and they sleep through the six months that they need for digestion." I pondered deeply, then, over the adventures of the jungle. And after some work with a colored pencil I succeeded in making my first drawing. My Drawing Number One. It looked something like this: Hat I showed my masterpiece to the grown-ups, and asked them whether the drawing frightened them. But they answered: "Frighten? Why should any one be frightened by a hat?" My drawing was not a picture of a hat. It was a picture of a boa constrictor digesting an elephant. But since the grown-ups were not able to understand it, I made another drawing: I drew the inside of a boa constrictor, so that the grown-ups could see it clearly. They always need to have things explained. My Drawing Number Two looked like this: Elephant inside the boa The grown-ups' response, this time, was to advise me to lay aside my drawings of boa constrictors, whether from the inside or the outside, and devote myself instead to geography, history, arithmetic, and grammar. That is why, at the age of six, I gave up what might have been a magnificent career as a painter. I had been disheartened by the failure of my Drawing Number One and my Drawing Number Two. Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them. So then I chose another profession, and learned to pilot airplanes. I have flown a little over all parts of the world; and it is true that geography has been very useful to me. At a glance I can distinguish China from Arizona. If one gets lost in the night, such knowledge is valuable. In the course of this life I have had a great many encounters with a great many people who have been concerned with matters of consequence. I have lived a great deal among grown-ups. I have seen them intimately, close at hand. And that hasn't much improved my opinion of them. Whenever I met one of them who seemed to me at all clear-sighted, I tried the experiment of showing him my Drawing Number One, which I have always kept. I would try to find out, so, if this was a person of true understanding. But, whoever it was, he, or she, would always say: "That is a hat." Then I would never talk to that person about boa constrictors, or primeval forests, or stars. I would bring myself down to his level. I would talk to him about bridge, and golf, and politics, and neckties. And the grown-up would be greatly pleased to have met such a sensible man. II So I lived my life alone, without anyone that I could really talk to, until I had an accident with my plane in the Desert of Sahara, six years ago. Something was broken in my engine. And as I had with me neither a mechanic nor any passengers, I set myself to attempt the difficult repairs all alone. It was a question of life or death for me: I had scarcely enough drinking water to last a week. The first night, then, I went to sleep on the sand, a thousand miles from any human habitation. I was more isolated than a shipwrecked sailor on a raft in the middle of the ocean. Thus you can imagine my amazement, at sunrise, when I was awakened by an odd little voice. It said: "If you please--draw me a sheep!" "What!" "Draw me a sheep!" I jumped to my feet, completely thunderstruck. I blinked my eyes hard. I looked carefully all around me. And I saw a most extraordinary small person, who stood there examining me with great seriousness. Here you may see the best portrait that, later, I was able to make of him. But my drawing is certainly very much less charming than its model. The Little prince That, however, is not my fault. The grown-ups discouraged me in my painter's career when I was six years old, and I never learned to draw anything, except boas from the outside and boas from the inside. Now I stared at this sudden apparition with my eyes fairly starting out of my head in astonishment. Remember, I had crashed in the desert a thousand miles from any inhabited region. And yet my little man seemed neither to be straying uncertainly among the sands, nor to be fainting from fatigue or hunger or thirst or fear. Nothing about him gave any suggestion of a child lost in the middle of the desert, a thousand miles from any human habitation. When at last I was able to speak, I said to him: "But--what are you doing here?" And in answer he repeated, very slowly, as if he were speaking of a matter of great consequence: "If you please--draw me a sheep..." When a mystery is too overpowering, one dare not disobey. Absurd as it might seem to me, a thousand miles from any human habitation and in danger of death, I took out of my pocket a sheet of paper and my fountain-pen. But then I remembered how my studies had been concentrated on geography, history, arithmetic and grammar, and I told the little chap (a little crossly, too) that I did not know how to draw. He answered me: "That doesn't matter. Draw me a sheep..." But I had never drawn a sheep. So I drew for him one of the two pictures I had drawn so often. It was that of the boa constrictor from the outside. And I was astounded to hear the little fellow greet it with: "No, no, no! I do not want an elephant inside a boa constrictor. A boa constrictor is a very dangerous creature, and an elephant is very cumbersome. Where I live, everything is very small. What I need is a sheep. Draw me a sheep." So then I made a drawing. Sick sheep He looked at it carefully, then he said: "No. This sheep is already very sickly. Make me another." So I made another drawing. A ram. My friend smiled gently and indulgently. "You see yourself," he said, "that this is not a sheep. This is a ram. It has horns." So then I did my drawing over once more. But it was rejected too, just like the others. "This one is too old. I want a sheep that will live a long time." Old sheep By this time my patience was exhausted, because I was in a hurry to start taking my engine apart. So I tossed off this drawing. Sheep in the box And I threw out an explanation with it. "This is only his box. The sheep you asked for is inside." I was very surprised to see a light break over the face of my young judge: "That is exactly the way I wanted it! Do you think that this sheep will have to have a great deal of grass?" "Why?" "Because where I live everything is very small..." "There will surely be enough grass for him," I said. "It is a very small sheep that I have given you." He bent his head over the drawing. "Not so small that--Look! He has gone to sleep..." And that is how I made the acquaintance of the little prince. III It took me a long time to learn where he came from. The little prince, who asked me so many questions, never seemed to hear the ones I asked him. It was from words dropped by chance that, little by little, everything was revealed to me. The first time he saw my airplane, for instance (I shall not draw my airplane; that would be much too complicated for me), he asked me: The Little prince "What is that object?" "That is not an object. It flies. It is an airplane. It is my airplane." And I was proud to have him learn that I could fly. He cried out, then: "What! You dropped down from the sky?" "Yes," I answered, modestly. "Oh! That is funny!" And the little prince broke into a lovely peal of laughter, which irritated me very much. I like my misfortunes to be taken seriously. Then he added: "So you, too, come from the sky! Which is your planet?" At that moment I caught a gleam of light in the impenetrable mystery of his presence; and I demanded, abruptly: "Do you come from another planet?" But he did not reply. He tossed his head gently, without taking his eyes from my plane: "It is true that on that you can't have come from very far away..." And he sank into a reverie, which lasted a long time. Then, taking my sheep out of his pocket, he buried himself in the contemplation of his treasure. You can imagine how my curiosity was aroused by this half-confidence about the "other planets." I made a great effort, therefore, to find out more on this subject. "My little man, where do you come from? What is this 'where I live,' of which you speak? Where do you want to take your sheep?" After a reflective silence he answered: "The thing that is so good about the box you have given me is that at night he can use it as his house." "That is so. And if you are good I will give you a string, too, so that you can tie him during the day, and a post to tie him to." But the little prince seemed shocked by this offer: The Little prince and stars "Tie him! What a queer idea!" "But if you don't tie him," I said, "he will wander off somewhere, and get lost." My friend broke into another peal of laughter: "But where do you think he would go?" "Anywhere. Straight ahead of him." Then the little prince said, earnestly: "That doesn't matter. Where I live, everything is so small!" And, with perhaps a hint of sadness, he added: "Straight ahead of him, nobody can go very far..." IV I had thus learned a second fact of great importance: this was that the planet the little prince came from was scarcely any larger than a house! But that did not really surprise me much. I knew very well that in addition to the great planets--such as the Earth, Jupiter, Mars, Venus--to which we have given names, there are also hundreds of others, some of which are so small that one has a hard time seeing them through the telescope. When an astronomer discovers one of these he does not give it a name, but only a number. He might call it, for example, "Asteroid 325". I have serious reason to believe that the planet from which the little prince came is the asteroid known as B-612. This asteroid has only once been seen through the telescope. That was by a Turkish astronomer, in 1909. Star-gazer On making his discovery, the astronomer had presented it to the International Astronomical Congress, in a great demonstration. But he was in Turkish costume, and so nobody would believe what he said. Grown-ups are like that... Fortunately, however, for the reputation of Asteroid B-612, a Turkish dictator made a law that his subjects, under pain of death, should change to European costume. So in 1920 the astronomer gave his demonstration all over again, dressed with impressive style and elegance. And this time everybody accepted his report. Turkish astronomer If I have told you these details about the asteroid, and made a note of its number for you, it is on account of the grown-ups and their ways. When you tell them that you have made a new friend, they never ask you any questions about essential matters. They never say to you, "What does his voice sound like? What games does he love best? Does he collect butterflies?" Instead, they demand: "How old is he? How many brothers has he? How much does he weigh? How much money does his father make?" Only from these figures do they think they have learned anything about him. If you were to say to the grown-ups: "I saw a beautiful house made of rosy brick, with geraniums in the windows and doves on the roof," they would not be able to get any idea of that house at all. You would have to say to them: "I saw a house that cost $20,000." Then they would exclaim: "Oh, what a pretty house that is!" Just so, you might say to them: "The proof that the little prince existed is that he was charming, that he laughed, and that he was looking for a sheep. If anybody wants a sheep, that is a proof that he exists." And what good would it do to tell them that? They would shrug their shoulders, and treat you like a child. But if you said to them: "The planet he came from is Asteroid B-612," then they would be convinced, and leave you in peace from their questions. European astronomer They are like that. One must not hold it against them. Children should always show great forbearance toward grown-up people. But certainly, for us who understand life, figures are a matter of indifference. I should have liked to begin this story in the fashion of the fairy-tales. I should have like to say: "Once upon a time there was a little prince who lived on a planet that was scarcely any bigger than himself, and who had need of a sheep..." To those who understand life, that would have given a much greater air of truth to my story. For I do not want any one to read my book carelessly. I have suffered too much grief in setting down these memories. Six years have already passed since my friend went away from me, with his sheep. If I try to describe him here, it is to make sure that I shall not forget him. To forget a friend is sad. Not every one has had a friend. And if I forget him, I may become like the grown-ups who are no longer interested in anything but figures... It is for that purpose, again, that I have bought a box of paints and some pencils. It is hard to take up drawing again at my age, when I have never made any pictures except those of the boa constrictor from the outside and the boa constrictor from the inside, since I was six. I shall certainly try to make my portraits as true to life as possible. But I am not at all sure of success. One drawing goes along all right, and another has no resemblance to its subject. I make some errors, too, in the little prince's height: in one place he is too tall and in another too short. And I feel some doubts about the color of his costume. So I fumble along as best I can, now good, now bad, and I hope generally fair-to-middling. In certain more important details I shall make mistakes, also. But that is something that will not be my fault. My friend never explained anything to me. He thought, perhaps, that I was like himself. But I, alas, do not know how to see sheep through the walls of boxes. Perhaps I am a little like the grown-ups. I have had to grow old. V As each day passed I would learn, in our talk, something about the little prince's planet, his departure from it, his journey. The information would come very slowly, as it might chance to fall from his thoughts. It was in this way that I heard, on the third day, about the catastrophe of the baobabs. This time, once more, I had the sheep to thank for it. For the little prince asked me abruptly--as if seized by a grave doubt--"It is true, isn't it, that sheep eat little bushes?" "Yes, that is true." "Ah! I am glad!" I did not understand why it was so important that sheep should eat little bushes. But the little prince added: "Then it follows that they also eat baobabs?" I pointed out to the little prince that baobabs were not little bushes, but, on the contrary, trees as big as castles; and that even if he took a whole herd of elephants away with him, the herd would not eat up one single baobab. The idea of the herd of elephants made the little prince laugh. "We would have to put them one on top of the other," he said. Elephans on the planet But he made a wise comment: "Before they grow so big, the baobabs start out by being little." "That is strictly correct," I said. "But why do you want the sheep to eat the little baobabs?" He answered me at once, "Oh, come, come!", as if he were speaking of something that was self-evident. And I was obliged to make a great mental effort to solve this problem, without any assistance. Indeed, as I learned, there were on the planet where the little prince lived--as on all planets--good plants and bad plants. In consequence, there were good seeds from good plants, and bad seeds from bad plants. But seeds are invisible. They sleep deep in the heart of the earth's darkness, until some one among them is seized with the desire to awaken. Then this little seed will stretch itself and begin--timidly at first--to push a charming little sprig inoffensively upward toward the sun. If it is only a sprout of radish or the sprig of a rose-bush, one would let it grow wherever it might wish. But when it is a bad plant, one must destroy it as soon as possible, the very first instant that one recognizes it. Chare of the planet Now there were some terrible seeds on the planet that was the home of the little prince; and these were the seeds of the baobab. The soil of that planet was infested with them. A baobab is something you will never, never be able to get rid of if you attend to it too late. It spreads over the entire planet. It bores clear through it with its roots. And if the planet is too small, and the baobabs are too many, they split it in pieces... "It is a question of discipline," the little prince said to me later on. "When you've finished your own toilet in the morning, then it is time to attend to the toilet of your planet, just so, with the greatest care. You must see to it that you pull up regularly all the baobabs, at the very first moment when they can be distinguished from the rosebushes which they resemble so closely in their earliest youth. It is very tedious work," the little prince added, "but very easy." And one day he said to me: "You ought to make a beautiful drawing, so that the children where you live can see exactly how all this is. That would be very useful to them if they were to travel some day. Sometimes," he added, "there is no harm in putting off a piece of work until another day. But when it is a matter of baobabs, that always means a catastrophe. I knew a planet that was inhabited by a lazy man. He neglected three little bushes..." So, as the little prince described it to me, I have made a drawing of that planet. I do not much like to take the tone of a moralist. But the danger of the baobabs is so little understood, and such considerable risks would be run by anyone who might get lost on an asteroid, that for once I am breaking through my reserve. "Children," I say plainly, "watch out for the baobabs!" My friends, like myself, have been skirting this danger for a long time, without ever knowing it; and so it is for them that I have worked so hard over this drawing. The lesson which I pass on by this means is worth all the trouble it has cost me. Baobabs Perhaps you will ask me, "Why are there no other drawing in this book as magnificent and impressive as this drawing of the baobabs?" The reply is simple. I have tried. But with the others I have not been successful. When I made the drawing of the baobabs I was carried beyond myself by the inspiring force of urgent necessity. VI Oh, little prince! Bit by bit I came to understand the secrets of your sad little life... For a long time you had found your only entertainment in the quiet pleasure of looking at the sunset. I learned that new detail on the morning of the fourth day, when you said to me: "I am very fond of sunsets. Come, let us go look at a sunset now." "But we must wait," I said. "Wait? For what?" "For the sunset. We must wait until it is time." At first you seemed to be very much surprised. And then you laughed to yourself. You said to me: "I am always thinking that I am at home!" Just so. Everybody knows that when it is noon in the United States the sun is setting over France. If you could fly to France in one minute, you could go straight into the sunset, right from noon. Unfortunately, France is too far away for that. But on your tiny planet, my little prince, all you need do is move your chair a few steps. You can see the day end and the twilight falling whenever you like... "One day," you said to me, "I saw the sunset forty-four times!" And a little later you added: "You know--one loves the sunset, when one is so sad..." "Were you so sad, then?" I asked, "on the day of the forty-four sunsets?" But the little prince made no reply. Sunsets

Tagalo

Última atualização: 2020-05-12
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Referência: Anônimo
Aviso: contém formatação HTML invisível

Inglês

Don't be fooled by me. Don't be fooled by the face I wear for I wear a mask, a thousand masks, masks that I'm afraid to take off, and none of them is me. Pretending is an art that's second nature with me, but don't be fooled, for God's sake don't be fooled. I give you the impression that I'm secure, that all is sunny and unruffled with me, within as well as without, that confidence is my name and coolness my game, that the water's calm and I'm in command and that I need no one, but don't believe me. My surface may seem smooth but my surface is my mask, ever-varying and ever-concealing. Beneath lies no complacence. Beneath lies confusion, and fear, and aloneness. But I hide this. I don't want anybody to know it. I panic at the thought of my weakness exposed. That's why I frantically create a mask to hide behind, a nonchalant sophisticated facade, to help me pretend, to shield me from the glance that knows. But such a glance is precisely my salvation, my only hope, and I know it. That is, if it's followed by acceptance, if it's followed by love. It's the only thing that can liberate me from myself, from my own self-built prison walls, from the barriers I so painstakingly erect. It's the only thing that will assure me of what I can't assure myself, that I'm really worth something. But I don't tell you this. I don't dare to, I'm afraid to. I'm afraid your glance will not be followed by acceptance, will not be followed by love. I'm afraid you'll think less of me, that you'll laugh, and your laugh would kill me. I'm afraid that deep-down I'm nothing and that you will see this and reject me. So I play my game, my desperate pretending game, with a facade of assurance without and a trembling child within. So begins the glittering but empty parade of masks, and my life becomes a front. I idly chatter to you in the suave tones of surface talk. I tell you everything that's really nothing, and nothing of what's everything, of what's crying within me. So when I'm going through my routine do not be fooled by what I'm saying. Please listen carefully and try to hear what I'm not saying, what I'd like to be able to say, what for survival I need to say, but what I can't say. I don't like hiding. I don't like playing superficial phony games. I want to stop playing them. I want to be genuine and spontaneous and me but you've got to help me. You've got to hold out your hand even when that's the last thing I seem to want. Only you can wipe away from my eyes the blank stare of the breathing dead. Only you can call me into aliveness. Each time you're kind, and gentle, and encouraging, each time you try to understand because you really care, my heart begins to grow wings-- very small wings, very feeble wings, but wings! With your power to touch me into feeling you can breathe life into me. I want you to know that. I want you to know how important you are to me, how you can be a creator--an honest-to-God creator-- of the person that is me if you choose to. You alone can break down the wall behind which I tremble, you alone can remove my mask, you alone can release me from my shadow-world of panic, from my lonely prison, if you choose to. Please choose to. Do not pass me by. It will not be easy for you. A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls. The nearer you approach to me the blinder I may strike back. It's irrational, but despite what the books say about man often I am irrational. I fight against the very thing I cry out for. But I am told that love is stronger than strong walls and in this lies my hope. Please try to beat down those walls with firm hands but with gentle hands for a child is very sensitive. Who am I, you may wonder? I am someone you know very well. For I am every man you meet and I am every woman you meet. Charles C. Finn September 1966

Tagalo

Última atualização: 2020-04-30
Frequência de uso: 1
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Referência: Anônimo

Inglês

RIVER JUG BEING DIPPED INTO WATER DRINKING WATER PSYCHE: (REFRESHED)Ah. MENS’ FOOTSTEPS MAN 1: Thou art too pretty a maiden to be fetching water all by her lonesome self. MAN 2: Shall I do it for you? MAN 1: No, I shall complete this task! MAN 2: Who do you think is competent enough to perform this task, Psyche, me or him? PSYCHE: (STRONGWILLED) Thank you, but I am fully capable to fetch water by myself. Farewell, I must get home now. FOOTSTEPS DOOR OPENS PSYCHE: (FRUSTRATED) Father, you were right, it happened again! Men chased after me. (SIGH) KING: It is the price you must pay for your infinite beauty. NARRATOR: Recently, Venus’s temple has been abandoned. SOUND OF CRICKETS WIND SCENE TWO SOFT MUSIC NARRATOR: Meanwhile at Mt. Olympus… VENUS: (STERN) Cupid, I’m so angry. Look at my temple, not a soul stands there to worship. I need you to complete a task for me. CUPID: (SOFT) Anything for you, my lovely mother. VENUS: (ANGRY) That horrible creature Psyche has stolen my admirers. All the men of the world are blind to the gods. CUPID: (HELPFUL) What do you propose we do about it? VENUS: (WICKED) I have a plan. (EVIL LAUGH) Here’s what you must do: You shall use your powers to have Psyche fall in love with most vile, despicable pig of a man. Let me show you this woman. Crystal ball, crystal ball, show me Psyche, show me all. POOF CUPID: (UNDER HIS BREATH) Gasp! Oh my, she is beautiful. I think I have been hit by one of my own arrows. VENUS: (COMMANDING) Now, be gone with you! Complete your duty! SCENE THREE SOFT MUSIC NARRATOR: Instead of immediately following Venus’ commands Cupid goes to the Oracle of Apollo and asks for his help. KNOCKING DOOR OPENING CUPID: (PLEADING) I need your help! ORACLE: (HAPPY) How may I be of your assistance? CUPID: (WORRIED) My mother has ordered me to make Psyche fall in love with a hideous man, but instead I, myself, have fallen in love with her. What shall I do? ORACLE: I will come up with a plan. KNOCKING ORACLE: Hold on a minute. FOOTSTEPS DOOR OPENING ORACLE: (WELCOMING) Well, hello, King. CUPID: (UNDER HIS BREATH) Oh no! I must not be seen! WINGS FLAPPING ORACLE: So my dear King, how may I be of assistance? KING: (STERN) I must find my daughter, Psyche, a good husband. ORACLE: Well…in order for her to find a her destined husband, she must be dressed in the deepest mourning, must be set on the summit of a rocky hill alone, and there, her destined husband, a fearful winged serpent, stronger than the gods themselves, will come to her and make her his wife. KING: (SAD) What has my daughter done to deserve this treachery? SCENE FOUR SOFT MUSIC NARRATOR: On top of a rocky hill in the darkness, Psyche awaits her destined husband. WOMAN CRYING STRONG WIND PSYCHE: (SURPRISED) Oh my I’m being uplifted by Zephyr. WOMAN BEING PLOPPED ONTO GROUND PSYCHE: What a beautiful meadow I landed in. Thank you Zephyr, sweetest of winds, for taking me to this peaceful meadow. (YAWNS) NARRATOR: And with that, all of Psyche’s troubles left her. She fell sound asleep. SCENE FIVE SOFT MUSIC NARRATOR: Soon after, Psyche awoke aside a bright river. On the bank was built a beautiful palace. PSYCHE: (PONDERING) Goodness! What a splendid mansion, but it seems like no one is home. Cupid 2 VOICE 1: (MYSTERIOUS VOICE) This wonderful home is all yours. VOICE 2: MYSTERIOUS VOICE) Do not be afraid. Enter the house and bathe. VOICE 1: A banquet table will be spread for you. VOICE 2: We are your servants, here to do as you desire. NARRATOR: The rest of Psyche’s joyful day included a delightful bath, the most delicious food, and listening to a beautiful choir. At night, Psyche finds herself in the presence of her lover, but does not know his identity due to the darkness. PSYCHE: (QUESTIONABLY) Hello? Who’s there? CUPID: (DEEP, COMFORTING VOICE) Its ok, my dear. Have no fear; I am not the monster you think I am. PSYCHE: (UNDER HER BREATH) Wow, he seems quite kind. CUPID: I will always be here for you. SCENE SIX SOFT MUSIC NARRATOR: After many days of happiness at the palace, Psyche longed to see her sisters at the rock hill where she had been picked up by Zephyr, but her lover would not allow it. PSYCHE: (PLEADING) My love, I wish to go talk to my sisters. CUPID: (STERN) I do not advise this; it will lead to your own destruction. PSYCHE: But I yearn for their presence! Do not cause me such pain! CUPID: If you really must, go along. PSYCHE: (OVERJOYED) Thank you so much! NARRATOR: The next day, Psyche walks to the top of the hill to meet her sisters. PSYCHE: (HAPPY) Hello dear sisters! I have missed you so! SISTER 1: How nice to see you Psyche! How is your marriage? PSYCHE: Oh, it’s fine. My husband is currently away on a hunting trip, but come with me to my new home. FOOTSTEPS SISTER 2: Wow, your mansion is beautiful! PSYCHE: Yes, now come see the marvelous inside! NARRATOR: Psyche toured her sisters around the house. After each wonder showed to them, the sisters envied her more and more. PSYCHE: And in this room, we store all of our jewels. I have a small gift for you. SISTER 2: (AMAZED) Oh my! That is the most beautiful necklace I’ve ever seen! NARRATOR: It had become late, so Psyche’s sisters decided to depart from the mansion. Psyche waved farewell, and her sisters walked home. During their walk, they decided they must plot revenge on their sister due to their jealousy. PSYCHE: Cupid, I had such a wonderful time with my sisters, and now I long to see them again! CUPID: Again, I do not advise this, but if you really want to, go ahead. NARRATOR: The next day, the sisters meet up with Psyche once more with the intent to pursue their plan. SISTER 1: How nice to see you again Psyche! PSYCHE: Nice to see you too, my dear sisters! SISTER 2: (SLYLY) Your palace is lovely and all, but what does your husband look like? We have never seen him before. PSYCHE: Um…well… SISTER 1: You don’t know? PSYCHE: Oh, sisters, to tell you the truth, I have never seen his face, but he seems like a great gentleman. SISTER 2: He’s probably is a despicable monster! PSYCHE: No, no, no, you’re getting things all wrong! He is kind. SISTER 1: No, he must be the fearful serpent Apollo declared him to be. PSYCHE: (PANICKING) Oh my, sisters! He might be! SISTER 2: Yes, he is! You must do something about it! SISTER 1: We have some advice for you. Here is what you must do: Before you go to sleep, hide a sharp knife and a lamp under your bed. When your husband is sound asleep, light the lamp, get the knife, and plunge it into the body of the fearful monster you lay your eyes on. NARRATOR: Her two sisters left and Psyche sadly prepared the murder of her husband. That night, once her husband was fast asleep, Psyche lit the lamp, grabbed the light, and set out to complete her task. PSYCHE: (GASP) My, he is so handsome! He is not a monster, but instead the lovely God of Love, Cupid! DRIPPING OIL SIZZLING ON SKIN CUPID: (SAD) OW! Psyche! I am so disappointed in you. You did not trust me. There is no love. WING FLAPPING PSYCHE: (DISAPOINTED WITH HERSELF) How stupid am I? My husband was the most handsome man alive and now he is gone. I will not rest until I find him once more. SCENE SEVEN MUSIC “ONE”: SOFT MUSIC NARRATOR: Cupid, injured, flies to Venus for his mother’s help. He tells her the whole story of how he came to fall in love with Psyche. VENUS: Cupid, you have disappointed me. I will go find this woman to show her what happens when you draw down the displeasure of a goddess. CUPID: (INJURED) She has injured me, but I still love her greatly. VENUS: I have a good plan. You’ll see what I’ll do. NARRATOR: Psyche, hopeless decides to go to Venus, and offer herself as a servant. She hopes to reconcile with Cupid. PSYCHE: Venus, I have come here to offer myself as a servant for you to make up for my wrong doings. VENUS: (CACKLES) You think that I would let you be my servant? PSYCHE: (PLEADING) Please let me right this wrong. VENUS: I will show my good will by training you by giving you various tasks. NARRATOR: Psyche is ordered to do two difficult tasks, but the creatures take pity on her and aid her, allowing her to complete each of them. PSYCHE: (PROUD) I have finished the tasks you have given me. VENUS: (ANNOYED) How did you complete them so fast? Well, never mind, here is another: This is a box. I need you to fill it will some of Persephone’s beauty. She lives in the underworld. PSYCHE: (UNDER HER BREATH) This is the hardest task yet. How can I complete it? NARRATOR: As Psyche walks on the road to Hades, a friendly guide offers her directions. GUIDE: (FUNNY ACCENT) Hello, Hello. Okay, um, first you must go to a great hole in the earth, then you must go down the river of Death, then you must give the ferryman, Charon, a penny to give you a ride across the river. After that, there is a road that leads straight to the palace. You will meet a very, very, big dog, Cerebus, he is very big, but if you give him a cake he will be very friendly and let you pass. NARRATOR: Psyche follows his instructions and completes the task. After a short amount of time, Psyche comes back from the underworld. PSYCHE: I wonder what is in this box. CREAKING STRONG WIND PSYCHE: (YAWNS) I’m so tired… WINGS FLAPPING CUPID: (QUIETLY) Oh, she’s sound asleep. I must poke her with one of my arrows. PSYCHE: (YAWNS) (SUPIRSED) Cupid! CUPID: Oh Psyche, you are too curious for your own good. (DESPERATELY) These past few days, I have missed you so. I cannot live without you. PSYCHE: I feel the same way, Cupid. I love you.

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RIVER JUG BEING DIPPED INTO WATER DRINKING WATER PSYCHE: (REFRESHED)Ah. MENS’ FOOTSTEPS MAN 1: Thou art too pretty a maiden to be fetching water all by her lonesome self. MAN 2: Shall I do it for you? MAN 1: No, I shall complete this task! MAN 2: Who do you think is competent enough to perform this task, Psyche, me or him? PSYCHE: (STRONGWILLED) Thank you, but I am fully capable to fetch water by myself. Farewell, I must get home now. FOOTSTEPS DOOR OPENS PSYCHE: (FRUSTRATED) Father, you were right, it happened again! Men chased after me. (SIGH) KING: It is the price you must pay for your infinite beauty. NARRATOR: Recently, Venus’s temple has been abandoned. SOUND OF CRICKETS WIND SCENE TWO SOFT MUSIC NARRATOR: Meanwhile at Mt. Olympus… VENUS: (STERN) Cupid, I’m so angry. Look at my temple, not a soul stands there to worship. I need you to complete a task for me. CUPID: (SOFT) Anything for you, my lovely mother. VENUS: (ANGRY) That horrible creature Psyche has stolen my admirers. All the men of the world are blind to the gods. CUPID: (HELPFUL) What do you propose we do about it? VENUS: (WICKED) I have a plan. (EVIL LAUGH) Here’s what you must do: You shall use your powers to have Psyche fall in love with most vile, despicable pig of a man. Let me show you this woman. Crystal ball, crystal ball, show me Psyche, show me all. POOF CUPID: (UNDER HIS BREATH) Gasp! Oh my, she is beautiful. I think I have been hit by one of my own arrows. VENUS: (COMMANDING) Now, be gone with you! Complete your duty! SCENE THREE SOFT MUSIC NARRATOR: Instead of immediately following Venus’ commands Cupid goes to the Oracle of Apollo and asks for his help. KNOCKING DOOR OPENING CUPID: (PLEADING) I need your help! ORACLE: (HAPPY) How may I be of your assistance? CUPID: (WORRIED) My mother has ordered me to make Psyche fall in love with a hideous man, but instead I, myself, have fallen in love with her. What shall I do? ORACLE: I will come up with a plan. KNOCKING ORACLE: Hold on a minute. FOOTSTEPS DOOR OPENING ORACLE: (WELCOMING) Well, hello, King. CUPID: (UNDER HIS BREATH) Oh no! I must not be seen! WINGS FLAPPING ORACLE: So my dear King, how may I be of assistance? KING: (STERN) I must find my daughter, Psyche, a good husband. ORACLE: Well…in order for her to find a her destined husband, she must be dressed in the deepest mourning, must be set on the summit of a rocky hill alone, and there, her destined husband, a fearful winged serpent, stronger than the gods themselves, will come to her and make her his wife. KING: (SAD) What has my daughter done to deserve this treachery? SCENE FOUR SOFT MUSIC NARRATOR: On top of a rocky hill in the darkness, Psyche awaits her destined husband. WOMAN CRYING STRONG WIND PSYCHE: (SURPRISED) Oh my I’m being uplifted by Zephyr. WOMAN BEING PLOPPED ONTO GROUND PSYCHE: What a beautiful meadow I landed in. Thank you Zephyr, sweetest of winds, for taking me to this peaceful meadow. (YAWNS) NARRATOR: And with that, all of Psyche’s troubles left her. She fell sound asleep. SCENE FIVE SOFT MUSIC NARRATOR: Soon after, Psyche awoke aside a bright river. On the bank was built a beautiful palace. PSYCHE: (PONDERING) Goodness! What a splendid mansion, but it seems like no one is home. Cupid 2 VOICE 1: (MYSTERIOUS VOICE) This wonderful home is all yours. VOICE 2: MYSTERIOUS VOICE) Do not be afraid. Enter the house and bathe. VOICE 1: A banquet table will be spread for you. VOICE 2: We are your servants, here to do as you desire. NARRATOR: The rest of Psyche’s joyful day included a delightful bath, the most delicious food, and listening to a beautiful choir. At night, Psyche finds herself in the presence of her lover, but does not know his identity due to the darkness. PSYCHE: (QUESTIONABLY) Hello? Who’s there? CUPID: (DEEP, COMFORTING VOICE) Its ok, my dear. Have no fear; I am not the monster you think I am. PSYCHE: (UNDER HER BREATH) Wow, he seems quite kind. CUPID: I will always be here for you. SCENE SIX SOFT MUSIC NARRATOR: After many days of happiness at the palace, Psyche longed to see her sisters at the rock hill where she had been picked up by Zephyr, but her lover would not allow it. PSYCHE: (PLEADING) My love, I wish to go talk to my sisters. CUPID: (STERN) I do not advise this; it will lead to your own destruction. PSYCHE: But I yearn for their presence! Do not cause me such pain! CUPID: If you really must, go along. PSYCHE: (OVERJOYED) Thank you so much! NARRATOR: The next day, Psyche walks to the top of the hill to meet her sisters. PSYCHE: (HAPPY) Hello dear sisters! I have missed you so! SISTER 1: How nice to see you Psyche! How is your marriage? PSYCHE: Oh, it’s fine. My husband is currently away on a hunting trip, but come with me to my new home. FOOTSTEPS SISTER 2: Wow, your mansion is beautiful! PSYCHE: Yes, now come see the marvelous inside! NARRATOR: Psyche toured her sisters around the house. After each wonder showed to them, the sisters envied her more and more. PSYCHE: And in this room, we store all of our jewels. I have a small gift for you. SISTER 2: (AMAZED) Oh my! That is the most beautiful necklace I’ve ever seen! NARRATOR: It had become late, so Psyche’s sisters decided to depart from the mansion. Psyche waved farewell, and her sisters walked home. During their walk, they decided they must plot revenge on their sister due to their jealousy. PSYCHE: Cupid, I had such a wonderful time with my sisters, and now I long to see them again! CUPID: Again, I do not advise this, but if you really want to, go ahead. NARRATOR: The next day, the sisters meet up with Psyche once more with the intent to pursue their plan. SISTER 1: How nice to see you again Psyche! PSYCHE: Nice to see you too, my dear sisters! SISTER 2: (SLYLY) Your palace is lovely and all, but what does your husband look like? We have never seen him before. PSYCHE: Um…well… SISTER 1: You don’t know? PSYCHE: Oh, sisters, to tell you the truth, I have never seen his face, but he seems like a great gentleman. SISTER 2: He’s probably is a despicable monster! PSYCHE: No, no, no, you’re getting things all wrong! He is kind. SISTER 1: No, he must be the fearful serpent Apollo declared him to be. PSYCHE: (PANICKING) Oh my, sisters! He might be! SISTER 2: Yes, he is! You must do something about it! SISTER 1: We have some advice for you. Here is what you must do: Before you go to sleep, hide a sharp knife and a lamp under your bed. When your husband is sound asleep, light the lamp, get the knife, and plunge it into the body of the fearful monster you lay your eyes on. NARRATOR: Her two sisters left and Psyche sadly prepared the murder of her husband. That night, once her husband was fast asleep, Psyche lit the lamp, grabbed the light, and set out to complete her task. PSYCHE: (GASP) My, he is so handsome! He is not a monster, but instead the lovely God of Love, Cupid! DRIPPING OIL SIZZLING ON SKIN CUPID: (SAD) OW! Psyche! I am so disappointed in you. You did not trust me. There is no love. WING FLAPPING PSYCHE: (DISAPOINTED WITH HERSELF) How stupid am I? My husband was the most handsome man alive and now he is gone. I will not rest until I find him once more. SCENE SEVEN MUSIC “ONE”: SOFT MUSIC NARRATOR: Cupid, injured, flies to Venus for his mother’s help. He tells her the whole story of how he came to fall in love with Psyche. VENUS: Cupid, you have disappointed me. I will go find this woman to show her what happens when you draw down the displeasure of a goddess. CUPID: (INJURED) She has injured me, but I still love her greatly. VENUS: I have a good plan. You’ll see what I’ll do. NARRATOR: Psyche, hopeless decides to go to Venus, and offer herself as a servant. She hopes to reconcile with Cupid. PSYCHE: Venus, I have come here to offer myself as a servant for you to make up for my wrong doings. VENUS: (CACKLES) You think that I would let you be my servant? PSYCHE: (PLEADING) Please let me right this wrong. VENUS: I will show my good will by training you by giving you various tasks. NARRATOR: Psyche is ordered to do two difficult tasks, but the creatures take pity on her and aid her, allowing her to complete each of them. PSYCHE: (PROUD) I have finished the tasks you have given me. VENUS: (ANNOYED) How did you complete them so fast? Well, never mind, here is another: This is a box. I need you to fill it will some of Persephone’s beauty. She lives in the underworld. PSYCHE: (UNDER HER BREATH) This is the hardest task yet. How can I complete it? NARRATOR: As Psyche walks on the road to Hades, a friendly guide offers her directions. GUIDE: (FUNNY ACCENT) Hello, Hello. Okay, um, first you must go to a great hole in the earth, then you must go down the river of Death, then you must give the ferryman, Charon, a penny to give you a ride across the river. After that, there is a road that leads straight to the palace. You will meet a very, very, big dog, Cerebus, he is very big, but if you give him a cake he will be very friendly and let you pass. NARRATOR: Psyche follows his instructions and completes the task. After a short amount of time, Psyche comes back from the underworld. PSYCHE: I wonder what is in this box. CREAKING STRONG WIND PSYCHE: (YAWNS) I’m so tired… WINGS FLAPPING UPID: (QUIETLY) Oh, she’s sound asleep. I must

Última atualização: 2019-06-12
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Inglês

Don't be fooled by me. Don't be fooled by the face I wear for I wear a mask, a thousand masks, masks that I'm afraid to take off, and none of them is me. Pretending is an art that's second nature with me, but don't be fooled, for God's sake don't be fooled. I give you the impression that I'm secure, that all is sunny and unruffled with me, within as well as without, that confidence is my name and coolness my game, that the water's calm and I'm in command and that I need no one, but don't believe me. My surface may seem smooth but my surface is my mask, ever-varying and ever-concealing. Beneath lies no complacence. Beneath lies confusion, and fear, and aloneness. But I hide this. I don't want anybody to know it. I panic at the thought of my weakness exposed. That's why I frantically create a mask to hide behind, a nonchalant sophisticated facade, to help me pretend, to shield me from the glance that knows. But such a glance is precisely my salvation, my only hope, and I know it. That is, if it's followed by acceptance, if it's followed by love. It's the only thing that can liberate me from myself, from my own self-built prison walls, from the barriers I so painstakingly erect. It's the only thing that will assure me of what I can't assure myself, that I'm really worth something. But I don't tell you this. I don't dare to, I'm afraid to. I'm afraid your glance will not be followed by acceptance, will not be followed by love. I'm afraid you'll think less of me, that you'll laugh, and your laugh would kill me. I'm afraid that deep-down I'm nothing and that you will see this and reject me. So I play my game, my desperate pretending game, with a facade of assurance without and a trembling child within. So begins the glittering but empty parade of masks, and my life becomes a front. I idly chatter to you in the suave tones of surface talk. I tell you everything that's really nothing, and nothing of what's everything, of what's crying within me. So when I'm going through my routine do not be fooled by what I'm saying. Please listen carefully and try to hear what I'm not saying, what I'd like to be able to say, what for survival I need to say, but what I can't say. I don't like hiding. I don't like playing superficial phony games. I want to stop playing them. I want to be genuine and spontaneous and me but you've got to help me. You've got to hold out your hand even when that's the last thing I seem to want. Only you can wipe away from my eyes the blank stare of the breathing dead. Only you can call me into aliveness. Each time you're kind, and gentle, and encouraging, each time you try to understand because you really care, my heart begins to grow wings-- very small wings, very feeble wings, but wings! With your power to touch me into feeling you can breathe life into me. I want you to know that. I want you to know how important you are to me, how you can be a creator--an honest-to-God creator-- of the person that is me if you choose to. You alone can break down the wall behind which I tremble, you alone can remove my mask, you alone can release me from my shadow-world of panic, from my lonely prison, if you choose to. Please choose to. Do not pass me by. It will not be easy for you. A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls. The nearer you approach to me the blinder I may strike back. It's irrational, but despite what the books say about man often I am irrational. I fight against the very thing I cry out for. But I am told that love is stronger than strong walls and in this lies my hope. Please try to beat down those walls with firm hands but with gentle hands for a child is very sensitive. Who am I, you may wonder? I am someone you know very well. For I am every man you meet and I am every woman you meet. Charles C. Finn September 1966

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Última atualização: 2018-09-05
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