Você procurou por: whose was the hand that slanted nack this brow (Inglês - Tagalo)

never ever bite the hand that feeds you
tagalog

part of the hand that ends in the letter or
bahagi ng kamay na nagtatapos sa letrang o

the hand that rises when you stumble is better than a thousand hands shaking hands with you upon arrival
ang kamay na tumataas kapag nadapa ka ay mas mahusay kaysa sa isang libong mga kamay na nakikipagkamay sa iyo sa pagdating

the man with the hoe bowed by the weight of centuries he leans upon his hoe and gazes on the ground, the emptiness of ages in his face, and on his back the burden of the world. who made him dead to rapture and despair, a thing that grieves not and that never hopes. stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox? who loosened and let down this brutal jaw? whose was the hand that slanted back this brow? whose breath blew out the light within this brain? is thi
ang lalaking may asarol nakayuko sa bigat ng mga siglo ay sumandal sa kanyang asarol at tumitig sa lupa, ang kahungkagan ng mga edad sa kanyang mukha, at sa kanyang likod ang pasan ng mundo. na ginawa siyang patay sa rapture at kawalan ng pag-asa, isang bagay na hindi nagdadalamhati at hindi umaasa. natigilan at natulala, kapatid sa baka? sino ang lumuwag at nagpakawala ng brutal na panga na ito? kanino ang kamay na nagpahilig sa kilay na ito? kaninong hininga ang nagbuga ng liwanag sa loob ng utak na ito? ay thi

i turn my head around to see princess kathyln run toward me, away from her group of friends. without giving me a chance to respond, she places her arm around my waist as her other wraps around the hand that i wasn’t holding my walking sti…sword with
inilibot ko ang aking ulo upang makita ang pagtakbo sa akin ni princess kathyln, malayo sa kanyang pangkat ng mga kaibigan. nang hindi ako binibigyan ng pagkakataong tumugon, inilagay niya ang kanyang braso sa baywang ko habang ang iba niyang balot sa kamay na hindi ko hawak ang aking paglalakad… sword with

bowed by the weight of centuries he leans upon his hoe and gazes on the ground, the emptinous up ages does in his face and on his back the burden of the world who made him dead to rapture and dispair, a thing that griebes not and that newer hopes stupid and stunned, a brother to the ox? who loosed and let clown this brutal jaw? who was the hand that stanted back this brow whose breath blew out the light within this brain? is the thing the lord god made and gave to have dominion over sea and land, to trace the stars and search the newers for power; to feel the passion of eternity? is the dream he dreamd who shaped the suns and mark their ways upon the acient deep? down all the stretch of hell to its last gult there is no shape more terrible than this more tongued with censure if the world's blidn greed more filled with signs and portents. for the soul more traught with danger to the universe what guts between him and the seraphim! slave of the wheel of labor, what to him are plato and the swing of pleiades? what the long veaches of the peaks of song, the rift of down, the reddening of the rase? through this dread shape humanity betrayed plundered, profaned and dis inherited, cries protest to the judges of the world, a protest that is also prophecy. o masters lords and rules in all lands in this the handwork you give to god, this monstrous thing distorted and soul quenched? how will you over straightened up this shape; to uch it again with immortality; give back the upward looking and the light; building in it the music and dream; make right the immemorial infamies, perfidious wrongs, immocable woes? o, masters, lords and rulers in all lands, how will the future reck with this man? how answer his brute question in that hour when whirl winds of rebellion shake the world with those who shaped him to the things he is; when this dumb terror shall reply to god after the silence of the centuries?
ang tao na may asarol at iba poems