Вы искали: what's a spanish (Французский - Английский)

a spanish
a spanish

on a spanish website.
on a spanish website.

ray, a., spanish pottery, londres, 2000.
ray, a., spanish pottery, 1248–1898, london, 2000.

the canary islands are a spanish archipelago.
the canary islands are a spanish archipelago.

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a) spanish association for standardisation and certification (aenor);
spanish association for standardisation and certification (aenor);

in practice, the central authority requires a spanish translation of all the requests for service.
in practice, the central authority requires a spanish translation of all the requests for service.

a spanish in the world, nous n'oublions pas que les participants à nos camps de vacances souhaitent avant tous s'amuser.
at spanish in the world, we never forget that we're a summer camp and that our young participants want to have fun during their school break!

a spanish institute nous voulons que nos étudiants en espagnol apprennent la langue espagnole tout en découvrant notre culture, notre environnement et nos coutumes.
in spanish institute we want our spanish students not only to learn the spanish language, but also to immerse into our culture, learn about our traditions, and travel the country.

journée européenne des langues vendredi 26 septembre 2008 exemples de la pratique 2007 cultural breakfast briefings we will be running a japanese and a spanish cultural briefing session.
european day of languages 26 september 2008 examples of practice 2007 cultural breakfast briefings we will be running a japanese and a spanish cultural briefing session.

journée européenne des langues vendredi 26 septembre 2008 exemples de la pratique 2007 getting in touch a group of students from our school will chat with a group from a spanish school in salamanca, in their mother languages.
european day of languages 26 september 2008 examples of practice 2007 getting in touch a group of students from our school will chat with a group from a spanish school in salamanca, in their mother languages.

a claim of discrimination at the european trade union institute in 1991, a spanish economist was engaged by the e.t.u.i. in brussels as a scientific researcher.
in 1997, she claimed that she had been recruited at a lower rung in the payscale than some of her male colleagues of similar qualifications, and that later on she had not been promoted to a higher category while some of her male colleagues had obtained that promotion merely on the basis of seniority.

the canadian adventure of a spanish naval hero", texte d’un document donner pour le congreso internacional de estudios canadienses, espagne, 23 octobre, 1998.
the canadian adventure of a spanish naval hero", text of paper given for the congreso internacional de estudios canadienses, spain, october 23, 1998.

bang bang bang! gunshots chased through the alley way, as i looked left and right i saw a bunch of dead civillians. i was in shock sneakly twisting myself around, ''micheal''( photographer)i whispered, ''yeah, did you just see that, that was crazy!'' he responded nervoulsy loud. i clutch on to micheal with force shoving my hand over his mouth sealing it ''what do you think your doing , do you want to die.'' i muttered in michaels ear. we need to split up michael suggested sudden two men approached me wearing; thermal synthetic, silk black balaclavas, and scatty pants and boots. however, one of these guys couldn't speak english ''where you from?'' asked the suspected criminal with an east african accent, i replied, ''united kingdom sir.'' ''now, what's a wealthy man like you doing in a wasteland like this?'' ''urm...'' he screwed up his face as if it were paper. ''tourist'' i responded slowly breaking a sweat. '' i dont believe you'' he said with a slight smirk ''whats going on'' echoed in the mist, i quickly turned my head 90 degrees south. the man struck his firearm in my face, shaking from left to right unsure whats going on, it appeared to be my cameraman micheal ''lets go'' he shouted in a high pitched voice. i ran like usain bolt adrenaline rushed through my body, the intense feeling of death around the corner felt cold, bang bang bang... for every gunshot there was a heartbeat. '' come on'' micheal screamed, bang! ''no!..'' sympathy did not exist at this point i had to carry on ''everyman for himself.'' ''just keep running'' i told myself exhaling deeply, ''no more running, no more gunshots, and no more dead bodies, just silence!'' letting the winds pass through my fingers knowing i'm at safety. beep beep ! ''do you need lift my friend?'' a cab driver said out of the bloom, as i got into the cab ''yes to the airport please '' i responded in a shocked humour. ''you leaving my friend?'' cab driver asked ''yeah i'm done here, was just a photographer, helping poor parts of africa become more fortunate unfortunately my help was not needed, you see life's not a story its reality.'' ''wait why did i lie to them...'' ''guess that doesn't matter anymore just lost a colleague '' i said to myself, ''what you talking about my friend?'' the cab driver interfered ''sigh nothing'' as i stared out the window having short flashbacks of what just happend, its like it all took place in a split second. meanwhile, later that day... i finally arrived at the airport it was pitch black, night time the time remained unknown. beeep beep, the cab driver beeped his horn, appeared to be wanting something, ''where's my money my friend?'' ''oh! yeah here. i casually handed over the drivers change. ''bye now'' the cab driver said, i marched as fast as i could into the airport, as, my head drifted in the direction of the airports television everything was coming back to me again ''grr'' i grunted, it seemed to be what just happend earlier ''they has been ruthless murdering spree going on we will investigate more be sure to tune in: itn news'' the tv had just mentioned. the gutted feeling you have when you know who the fugitives of a crime was, but i couldn't let that phase me i took like a brush to the shoulder and booked my flight. united kingdom! had been tanoid i knew it was my time to say good bye. gunshots! i dont believe you... lets go! noo!... no more running no more gunshots nore more died bodies lifes not a story its realitypunctuation
autobang bang bang! gunshots chased through the alley way, as i looked left and right i saw a bunch of dead civillians. i was in shock sneakly twisting myself around, ''micheal''( photographer)i whispered, ''yeah, did you just see that, that was crazy!'' he responded nervoulsy loud. i clutch on to micheal with force shoving my hand over his mouth sealing it ''what do you think your doing , do you want to die.'' i muttered in michaels ear. we need to split up michael suggested sudden two men approached me wearing; thermal synthetic, silk black balaclavas, and scatty pants and boots. however, one of these guys couldn't speak english ''where you from?'' asked the suspected criminal with an east african accent, i replied, ''united kingdom sir.'' ''now, what's a wealthy man like you doing in a wasteland like this?'' ''urm...'' he screwed up his face as if it were paper. ''tourist'' i responded slowly breaking a sweat. '' i dont believe you'' he said with a slight smirk ''whats going on'' echoed in the mist, i quickly turned my head 90 degrees south. the man struck his firearm in my face, shaking from left to right unsure whats going on, it appeared to be my cameraman micheal ''lets go'' he shouted in a high pitched voice. i ran like usain bolt adrenaline rushed through my body, the intense feeling of death around the corner felt cold, bang bang bang... for every gunshot there was a heartbeat. '' come on'' micheal screamed, bang! ''no!..'' sympathy did not exist at this point i had to carry on ''everyman for himself.'' ''just keep running'' i told myself exhaling deeply, ''no more running, no more gunshots, and no more dead bodies, just silence!'' letting the winds pass through my fingers knowing i'm at safety. beep beep ! ''do you need lift my friend?'' a cab driver said out of the bloom, as i got into the cab ''yes to the airport please '' i responded in a shocked humour. ''you leaving my friend?'' cab driver asked ''yeah i'm done here, was just a photographer, helping poor parts of africa become more fortunate unfortunately my help was not needed, you see life's not a story its reality.'' ''wait why did i lie to them...'' ''guess that doesn't matter anymore just lost a colleague '' i said to myself, ''what you talking about my friend?'' the cab driver interfered ''sigh nothing'' as i stared out the window having short flashbacks of what just happend, its like it all took place in a split second. meanwhile, later that day... i finally arrived at the airport it was pitch black, night time the time remained unknown. beeep beep, the cab driver beeped his horn, appeared to be wanting something, ''where's my money my friend?'' ''oh! yeah here. i casually handed over the drivers change. ''bye now'' the cab driver said, i marched as fast as i could into the airport, as, my head drifted in the direction of the airports television everything was coming back to me again ''grr'' i grunted, it seemed to be what just happend earlier ''they has been ruthless murdering spree going on we will investigate more be sure to tune in: itn news'' the tv had just mentioned. the gutted feeling you have when you know who the fugitives of a crime was, but i couldn't let that phase me i took like a brush to the shoulder and booked my flight. united kingdom! had been tanoid i knew it was my time to say good bye. gunshots! i dont believe you... lets go! noo!... no more running no more gunshots nore more died bodies lifes not a story its reality