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英语

pray first before going to bed

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magdasal ka muna bago matulog

最后更新: 2019-12-21
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英语

I always take a bath before going to bed.

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Palagi akong naliligo bago matulog.

最后更新: 2014-02-01
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英语

Please remember to turn off the light before going to bed.

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Pakiusap tandaang patayin ang ilaw bago matulog.

最后更新: 2014-02-01
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英语

I'm going to bed

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Tuloy ba alis mo ngayung friday

最后更新: 2020-06-16
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参考: 匿名

英语

I'm going to bed

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Anu Sa Inglish ang godnyt Matolog na Po ako antok na Ki ehh

最后更新: 2020-04-03
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参考: 匿名

英语

I'm going to bed

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D ako nag hahanap nang ganyan

最后更新: 2020-03-08
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参考: 匿名

英语

I learned French, before going to Europe.

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Natuto ako ng wikang Pranses, bago pumunta sa Europa.

最后更新: 2014-02-01
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英语

I'm going to bed!

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Matutulog na ako!

最后更新: 2014-02-01
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英语

I'm going to bed early

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matutulog na ako ng maaga

最后更新: 2020-06-30
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英语

I'm going to bed early

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matutulog na ako ng maaga

最后更新: 2020-05-29
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英语

I'm going to bed early

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mauna na ako matulog sayo

最后更新: 2019-12-13
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英语

Good morning, It's going to be an exam later. Eat before going in.

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Magandang umaga sayo,Gising may exam pa mamaya.Kumain ka bago pumasok.

最后更新: 2018-03-15
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英语

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

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最后更新: 2020-05-12
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英语

A king and queen have three daughters. All three of the girls are attractive, but one of them is absolutely gorgeous – Psyche. People come from all around just to check out how beautiful Psyche is. All this adoration of Psyche gets totally out of hand; men start worshiping her as if she were a goddess and ignore the altars of the goddess of love and beauty, Venus (a.k.a. Aphrodite). Men even start saying that Psyche is more beautiful than Venus. (Uh-oh.) We bet you can guess who got mad about this. Yup, that's right – Venus. The goddess of love gets kind of hateful and orders her son, Cupid (a.k.a. Eros), to go and punish Psyche by making her fall in love with the ugliest thing around. Cupid sneaks into Psyche's bedroom to do his mother's bidding, but, when he sees how beautiful Psyche is, he gets all distracted and pricks himself with his own arrow. Cupid falls instantly in love with Psyche and leaves without doing what his mother told him to do. Psyche's life continues on as usual: everybody comes to gawk at how hot she is. However, since Venus has it in for her, nobody ever falls in love with Psyche. Psyche's two sisters end up getting married, but Psyche is stuck sitting alone in her room. Getting worried that they've made some god angry, Psyche's parents decide to go consult the oracle of Apollo about their daughter's future. The oracle tells them that Psyche is destined to marry a monster that neither god nor mortal can resist. Psyche's parents are instructed to leave her on a mountain to await her monstrous husband. They cry a lot about it, but they do it anyway. So, Psyche is chilling on top of the mountain, fully expecting something terrible to happen. Zephyr, the west wind, comes and lifts her, carrying the princess gently from the mountaintop down to a beautiful field of flowers. Psyche comes across an amazing castle and goes inside. The place is decked out with tons of treasure and priceless pieces of art. She hears voices that tell her that the palace and all the amazing stuff in it is hers. She's treated to a wonderful feast, complete with an invisible singing chorus for entertainment. Her husband-to-be comes to her that night in the darkness of her bedroom, so she can't see what he looks like. He tells her that she must never try to see what he looks like. She's cool with that for a while, but eventually she gets lonely since he only comes at night and because there are no other humans around. Psyche convinces her invisible husband to let her sisters come and visit her. He reluctantly agrees and has Zephyr float them down. Psyche's sisters get super-jealous about her incredibly posh lifestyle. They start interrogating her about who her husband is. At first, Psyche lies and says he's a handsome young man who spends all day hunting in the mountains. They don't buy it, though, and keep pumping her for information. Eventually, Psyche admits that she's never seen him and that he only comes at night. The jealous sisters remind Psyche of the prophecy that she would marry a monster, and they convince their sister that she has to see what her husband looks like. They advise her to wait until he's asleep, then stand over him with a lamp and a knife (in case he's a monster). That night she follows her sisters' advice and sees that her husband is none other than Cupid. Psyche is blown away by how ridiculously handsome her husband is. She's so distracted that she lets a drop of oil fall and burns his skin. Cupid wakes up and sees his wife standing there with the lamp and a knife. Furious, he flies out the window, telling Psyche that she'll never see him again. The beautiful palace disappears and Psyche is left all alone. Totally depressed, Psyche goes back to her sisters and tells them what happened. As if they hadn't already shown how totally awful they were, the sisters now go to the mountaintop thinking that one of them might take Psyche's husband for themselves. They jump off the mountain, expecting Zephyr to take them down. (No such luck.) The jealous sisters fall to their deaths on the rocks below. Meanwhile, Psyche wanders around trying to find Cupid. She ends up going to a temple of Ceres (a.k.a. Demeter), goddess of the harvest. The temple is a total wreck, so Psyche cleans it up. Ceres is impressed with Psyche's devotion. Psyche asks for some help. Ceres wishes she could give Psyche a hand, but the goddess says she can't go against Venus. Ceres advises Psyche to go to Venus and humbly beg for forgiveness. Psyche takes Ceres' advice and presents herself to Venus. Venus is still crazy mad and gives Psyche a tongue lashing, telling the girl that Cupid is still trying to recover from the burn that the oil gave him when it dripped on him. The goddess of love tells Psyche that she must prove herself worthy to be Cupid's wife by completing a task. Psyche is taken to a storehouse full of wheat, millet, barley, and all kinds of stuff that Venus uses to feed her pigeons. Psyche is ordered to organize all the different kinds of grain – the wheat with the wheat, the barley with the barley, etc. The job seems pretty much impossible, and, to make matters worse, Venus orders Psyche to get it done by evening. Cupid intervenes, however, and inspires a colony of ants to come out of the ground and help out Psyche. (Phew! We were worried that Rumpelstiltskin might show up.) The ants get the job done and disappear underground. Venus returns and tells Psyche that it doesn't count, because Psyche couldn't have done it by herself. The next day the goddess of love gives her daughter-in-law another task. Psyche must collect golden fleece from the back of every sheep in a herd that hangs out by a river. As she's about to cross the river, though, a river god warns Psyche that, if she tries it when the sun is rising, the human-hating rams will kill her. The helpful river god advises her to wait until the noontime sun makes the herd go chill out in the shade; then the rams won't mess with her. Psyche follows the river god's advice and safely collects the wool. Venus is still not satisfied, though, saying again that Psyche didn't do it on her own. Next, the love goddess orders Psyche to go down to the world of the dead and see Proserpine (a.k.a. Persephone), the queen of the underworld and wife of Pluto (a.k.a. Hades). Venus says she wants Psyche to bring a little bit of Proserpine's beauty back in a box. Psyche bravely heads off to find the underworld, but she's really upset this time – going to the land of the dead is beyond dangerous. How is Psyche supposed to get to the underworld? Is she supposed to kill herself? She seems to think so. Thankfully, before Psyche jumps off a cliff, she hears a voice (Cupid) that tells her how to pull it off. The voice tells her where there's a cave that leads down to the underworld, how to convince Charon (the ferryman) to take her there and back, and how to avoid Cerberus, the vicious three-headed dog who guards the underworld. Psyche makes it to Pluto and Proserpine's palace in the land of the dead and tells Proserpine that Venus wants to borrow a little beauty. A box is given to Psyche, and she's on her way. The voice warns Psyche not to open the box, no matter what she does, but Psyche's just so curious and can't help herself. The girl opens the box, thinking that, if she had a little of the beauty herself, then she'd truly be worthy of Cupid. Unfortunately, there's no beauty in the box at all, and when Psyche takes off the lid, she's plunged into a deep sleep, collapsing in the middle of the road. Cupid, who has finally recovered from his burn, flies to help his wife. He wakes her up with one of his arrows, and he points out that once again her curiosity has gotten her in trouble. Cupid tells her to take the box to Venus and to let him take care of the rest. He flies to Jupiter (a.k.a. Zeus), and he begs the king of the gods to help him and Psyche. Jupiter summons Venus and convinces her to chill out about the whole thing. Then he brings Psyche up to Mt. Olympus, the home of the gods, and gives her some ambrosia, which makes the girl immortal. At long last, Cupid and Psyche get to be together. Cupid and Psyche end up having a daughter together, named Voluptas (a.k.a. Hedone, sometimes translated as Pleasure).

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cupid and psyche tagalog version

最后更新: 2016-06-18
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英语

A long time ago, cricket fighting caught on in the imperial court, with the emperor leading the fad. A local magistrate in Huayin, who wanted to win the favor of the monarch, tried in every way to get him the best fighting crickets. He had a strategy for doing so: He managed to get a cricket that was very good at fighting. He then made his subordinates go to the heads of each village and force them to send in a constant supply of fighting crickets. He would send to the imperial court the crickets that could beat the one he was keeping. Theoretically, everything should have worked smoothly. However, as the magistrate was extremely zealous to please the emperor, he meted out harsh punishment on any village heads who failed to accomplish their tasks. The village heads in turn shifted the burden to the poor villagers, who had to search for the crickets. If they failed to catch them, they had to purchase them from someone else, or they had to pay a levy in cash. The small insects suddenly became a rare commodity. Speculators hoarded good crickets, buying them at a bargain and selling them for an exorbitant price. Many village heads worked hand in hand with the speculators to make profits. In so doing, they bankrupted many a family. Cheng Ming was one such villager. The head of his village delegated part of his duties to him because he found Cheng Ming easy to push around. Cheng Ming did not want to bully his fellow villagers as the village head did him, so he often had to pay cash out of his own pocket when he failed to collect any competent crickets. Soon the little proper ties he had were draining away, and he went into a severe depression. One day, he said to his wife that he wanted to die.“Death is easy, but what will our son do without you?” asked his wife, glancing at their only son, sleeping on the kang. “Why can’t we look for the crickets ourselves instead of buying them? Perhaps we’ll strike some goodluck.” Cheng Ming gave up the idea of suicide and went to search for crickets. Armed with a tiny basket of copper wires for catching crickets and a number of small bamboo tubes for holding them, he went about the tedious task. Each day he got up at dawn and did not return until late in the evening. He searched beneath brick debris, dike crevices, and in the weeds and bushes. Days went by, and he caught only a few mediocre crickets that did not measure up to the magistrate’s standards. His worries increased as the dead line drew closer and closer. The day for cricket delivery finally came, but Cheng Ming could not produce any good ones. He was clubbed a hundred times on the buttocks, a form of corporal punishment in the ancient Chinese judicial system. When he was released the next day, he could barely walk. The wound on his buttocks confined him to bed for days and further delayed his search for crickets. He thought of committing suicide again. His wife did not know what to do Then they heard about a hunchbacked fortune teller who was visiting the village. Cheng Ming’s wife went to see him. The fortune teller gave her a piece of paper with a picture on it. It was a pavilion with a jiashan (rockgarden) behind it. On the bushes by the jiashan sat a fat male cricket. Beside it, however, lurked a large toad, ready to catch the insect with its long, elastic tongue. When the wife got home, she showed the paper to her husband. Cheng Ming sprang up and jumped to the floor, forgetting the pain in his buttocks.“This is the fortune teller’s hint at the location where I can find a perfect cricket to accomplish my task!” he exclaimed.“But we don’t have a pavilion in our village,” his wife re minded him.“Well, take a closer look and think. Doesn’t the temple on the east side of our village have a rock garden? That must be it.” So saying, Cheng Ming limped to the temple with the support of a make shift crutch. Sure enough, he saw the cricket, and the toad squatting nearby in the rock garden at the back of the temple. He caught the big, black male cricket just before the toad got hold of it. Back home, he carefully placed the cricket in a jar he had prepared for it and stowed the jar away in a safe place. “Everything will be over tomorrow,” he gave a sigh of relief and went to tell his best friends in the village the good news. Cheng Ming’s nine-year-old son was very curious. Seeing his father was gone, he took the jar and wanted to have a peek at the cricket. He was removing the lid carefully, when the big cricket jumped out and hopped away. Panicked, the boy tried to catch the fleeing cricket with his hands, but in a flurry, he accidentally squashed the insect when he finally got hold of it.“Good heavens! What’re you going to say to your father when he comes back?” the mother said in distress and dread. Without a word, the boy went out of the room, tears in his eyes.Cheng Ming became distraught when he saw the dead cricket. He couldn’t believe that all his hopes had been dashed in a second. He looked around for his son, vowing to teach the little scoundrel a good lesson. He searched inside and outside the house, only to locate him in a well at the corner of the court yard. When he fished him out, the boy was already dead. The father’s fury instantly gave way to sorrow. The grieved parents laid their son on the kang and lamented over his body the entire night. As Cheng Ming was dressing his son for burial the next morning, he felt the body still warm. Immediately he put the boy back on the kang, hoping that he would revive. Gradually the boy came back to life, but to his parents’dismay, he was unconscious, as if he were in a trance. The parents grieved again for the loss of their son. Suddenly they heard a cricket chirping. The couple traced the sound to a small cricket on the door step. The appearance of the cricket, however, dashed their hopes, for it was very small. “Well, it’s better than nothing,” Cheng Ming thought. He was about to catch it, when it jumped nimbly on to a wall, cheeping at him. He tip toed to ward it, but it showed no sign of fleeing. Instead, when Cheng Ming came a few steps closer, the little cricket jumped onto his chest. Though small, the cricket looked smart and energetic. Cheng Ming planned to take it to the village head. Uncertain of its capabilities, ChengMing could not go to sleep. He wanted to put the little cricket to the test before sending it to the village head. The next morning, Cheng Ming went to a young man from a rich family in his neighborhood, having heard him boasting about an “invincible” cricket that he wanted to sell for a high price. When the young man showed his cricket, Cheng Ming hesitated, because his little cricket seemed no match for this gigantic insect. To fight this monster would be to condemn his dwarf to death.“There’s no way my little cricket could survive a confrontation with your big guy,” Cheng Ming said to the young man, holding his jar tight. The young man goaded and taunted him. At last, Cheng Ming decided to take a risk. “Well, it won’t hurt to give a try. If the little cricket is a good-for-nothing, what’s the use of keeping it anyway?” he thought. When they put the two crickets together in a jar, Cheng Ming’s small insect seemed transfixed. No matter how the young man prodded it to fight, it simply would not budge. The young man burst into a guffaw, to the great embarrassment of Cheng Ming. As the young man spurred the little cricket on, it suddenly seemed to have run out of patience. With great wrath, it charged the giant opponent head on. The sudden burst of action stunned both the young man and Cheng Ming. Before the little creature planted its small but sharp teeth into the neck of the big cricket, the terrified young man fished the big insect out of the jar just in time and called off the contest. The little cricket chirped victoriously, and Cheng Ming felt exceedingly happy and proud.Cheng Ming and the young man were commenting on the little cricket’s extraordinary prowess, when a big rooster rushed over to peck at the little cricket in the jar. The little cricket hopped out of the jar in time to dodge the attack. The rooster then went for it a second time, but suddenly began to shake its head violently, screaming in agony. This sudden turn of events baffled Cheng Ming and the onlookers. When they took a closer look, they could not believe their eyes: The little cricket was gnawing on the rooster’s bloody comb. The story of a cricket fighting a rooster soon spread throughout the village and beyond. The next day, Cheng Ming, along with the village head, sent the cricket to the magistrate and asked for a test fight with his master cricket, but the magistrate re fused on the ground that Cheng Ming’s cricket was too small.“I don’t think you have heard its rooster-fighting story,” Cheng Ming proclaimed with great pride. “You can’t judge it only by its appearance.”“Nonsense, how can a cricket fight a rooster?” asked the magistrate. He ordered a big rooster brought to his office, thinking that Cheng Ming would quit telling his tall tales when his cricket became the bird’s snack. The battle between the little cricket and the rooster ended with the same result: The rooster sped away in great pain, the little cricket chirping triumphantly on its heels. The magistrate was first astonished and then pleased, thinking that he finally had the very insect that could win him the emperor’s favor. He had a golden cage manufactured for the little cricket. Placing it cautiously in the cage, he took it to the emperor. The emperor pitted the little cricket against all his veteran combat ant crickets, and it defeated them one by one. What amused the emperor most was that the little creature could even dance to the tune of his court music! Extremely pleased with the magic little creature, the emperor rewarded the magistrate liberally and promoted him to a higher position. The magistrate, now a governor, in turn exempted Cheng Ming from his levies in cash as well as crickets. A year later, Cheng Ming’s son came out of his stupor. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, to the great surprise and joy of his parents. The first word she uttered to his jubilant parents were, “I’m so tired and hungry.” After a hot meal, he told them, “I dreamed that I had become a cricket, and I fought a lot of other crickets. It was such fun! You know what? The greatest fun I had was my fight with a couple of roosters!” (Taken from a website)

他加禄语

mga cricket boy maikling kuwento

最后更新: 2015-07-28
使用频率: 1
质量:

参考: 匿名

英语

A king and queen have three daughters. All three of the girls are attractive, but one of them is absolutely gorgeous – Psyche. People come from all around just to check out how beautiful Psyche is. All this adoration of Psyche gets totally out of hand; men start worshiping her as if she were a goddess and ignore the altars of the goddess of love and beauty, Venus (a.k.a. Aphrodite). Men even start saying that Psyche is more beautiful than Venus. (Uh-oh.) We bet you can guess who got mad about this. Yup, that's right – Venus. The goddess of love gets kind of hateful and orders her son, Cupid (a.k.a. Eros), to go and punish Psyche by making her fall in love with the ugliest thing around. Cupid sneaks into Psyche's bedroom to do his mother's bidding, but, when he sees how beautiful Psyche is, he gets all distracted and pricks himself with his own arrow. Cupid falls instantly in love with Psyche and leaves without doing what his mother told him to do. Psyche's life continues on as usual: everybody comes to gawk at how hot she is. However, since Venus has it in for her, nobody ever falls in love with Psyche. Psyche's two sisters end up getting married, but Psyche is stuck sitting alone in her room. Getting worried that they've made some god angry, Psyche's parents decide to go consult the oracle of Apollo about their daughter's future. The oracle tells them that Psyche is destined to marry a monster that neither god nor mortal can resist. Psyche's parents are instructed to leave her on a mountain to await her monstrous husband. They cry a lot about it, but they do it anyway. So, Psyche is chilling on top of the mountain, fully expecting something terrible to happen. Zephyr, the west wind, comes and lifts her, carrying the princess gently from the mountaintop down to a beautiful field of flowers. Psyche comes across an amazing castle and goes inside. The place is decked out with tons of treasure and priceless pieces of art. She hears voices that tell her that the palace and all the amazing stuff in it is hers. She's treated to a wonderful feast, complete with an invisible singing chorus for entertainment. Her husband-to-be comes to her that night in the darkness of her bedroom, so she can't see what he looks like. He tells her that she must never try to see what he looks like. She's cool with that for a while, but eventually she gets lonely since he only comes at night and because there are no other humans around. Psyche convinces her invisible husband to let her sisters come and visit her. He reluctantly agrees and has Zephyr float them down. Psyche's sisters get super-jealous about her incredibly posh lifestyle. They start interrogating her about who her husband is. At first, Psyche lies and says he's a handsome young man who spends all day hunting in the mountains. They don't buy it, though, and keep pumping her for information. Eventually, Psyche admits that she's never seen him and that he only comes at night. The jealous sisters remind Psyche of the prophecy that she would marry a monster, and they convince their sister that she has to see what her husband looks like. They advise her to wait until he's asleep, then stand over him with a lamp and a knife (in case he's a monster). That night she follows her sisters' advice and sees that her husband is none other than Cupid. Psyche is blown away by how ridiculously handsome her husband is. She's so distracted that she lets a drop of oil fall and burns his skin. Cupid wakes up and sees his wife standing there with the lamp and a knife. Furious, he flies out the window, telling Psyche that she'll never see him again. The beautiful palace disappears and Psyche is left all alone. Totally depressed, Psyche goes back to her sisters and tells them what happened. As if they hadn't already shown how totally awful they were, the sisters now go to the mountaintop thinking that one of them might take Psyche's husband for themselves. They jump off the mountain, expecting Zephyr to take them down. (No such luck.) The jealous sisters fall to their deaths on the rocks below. Meanwhile, Psyche wanders around trying to find Cupid. She ends up going to a temple of Ceres (a.k.a. Demeter), goddess of the harvest. The temple is a total wreck, so Psyche cleans it up. Ceres is impressed with Psyche's devotion. Psyche asks for some help. Ceres wishes she could give Psyche a hand, but the goddess says she can't go against Venus. Ceres advises Psyche to go to Venus and humbly beg for forgiveness. Psyche takes Ceres' advice and presents herself to Venus. Venus is still crazy mad and gives Psyche a tongue lashing, telling the girl that Cupid is still trying to recover from the burn that the oil gave him when it dripped on him. The goddess of love tells Psyche that she must prove herself worthy to be Cupid's wife by completing a task. Psyche is taken to a storehouse full of wheat, millet, barley, and all kinds of stuff that Venus uses to feed her pigeons. Psyche is ordered to organize all the different kinds of grain – the wheat with the wheat, the barley with the barley, etc. The job seems pretty much impossible, and, to make matters worse, Venus orders Psyche to get it done by evening. Cupid intervenes, however, and inspires a colony of ants to come out of the ground and help out Psyche. (Phew! We were worried that Rumpelstiltskin might show up.) The ants get the job done and disappear underground. Venus returns and tells Psyche that it doesn't count, because Psyche couldn't have done it by herself. The next day the goddess of love gives her daughter-in-law another task. Psyche must collect golden fleece from the back of every sheep in a herd that hangs out by a river. As she's about to cross the river, though, a river god warns Psyche that, if she tries it when the sun is rising, the human-hating rams will kill her. The helpful river god advises her to wait until the noontime sun makes the herd go chill out in the shade; then the rams won't mess with her. Psyche follows the river god's advice and safely collects the wool. Venus is still not satisfied, though, saying again that Psyche didn't do it on her own. Next, the love goddess orders Psyche to go down to the world of the dead and see Proserpine (a.k.a. Persephone), the queen of the underworld and wife of Pluto (a.k.a. Hades). Venus says she wants Psyche to bring a little bit of Proserpine's beauty back in a box. Psyche bravely heads off to find the underworld, but she's really upset this time – going to the land of the dead is beyond dangerous. How is Psyche supposed to get to the underworld? Is she supposed to kill herself? She seems to think so. Thankfully, before Psyche jumps off a cliff, she hears a voice (Cupid) that tells her how to pull it off. The voice tells her where there's a cave that leads down to the underworld, how to convince Charon (the ferryman) to take her there and back, and how to avoid Cerberus, the vicious three-headed dog who guards the underworld. Psyche makes it to Pluto and Proserpine's palace in the land of the dead and tells Proserpine that Venus wants to borrow a little beauty. A box is given to Psyche, and she's on her way. The voice warns Psyche not to open the box, no matter what she does, but Psyche's just so curious and can't help herself. The girl opens the box, thinking that, if she had a little of the beauty herself, then she'd truly be worthy of Cupid. Unfortunately, there's no beauty in the box at all, and when Psyche takes off the lid, she's plunged into a deep sleep, collapsing in the middle of the road. Cupid, who has finally recovered from his burn, flies to help his wife. He wakes her up with one of his arrows, and he points out that once again her curiosity has gotten her in trouble. Cupid tells her to take the box to Venus and to let him take care of the rest. He flies to Jupiter (a.k.a. Zeus), and he begs the king of the gods to help him and Psyche. Jupiter summons Venus and convinces her to chill out about the whole thing. Then he brings Psyche up to Mt. Olympus, the home of the gods, and gives her some ambrosia, which makes the girl immortal. At long last, Cupid and Psyche get to be together. Cupid and Psyche end up having a daughter together, named Voluptas (a.k.a. Hedone, sometimes translated as Pleasure).

他加禄语

cupid and psyche (salin sa filipino)

最后更新: 2015-06-15
使用频率: 4
质量:

参考: 匿名

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