<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:58:35.977+01:00</updated><category term='mirandés eimigrantes cuntas'/><category term='mirandés música dulce pontes titioni'/><category term='Manowar mirandés &quot;heart of steel&quot;'/><category term='galandum galundaina mirandés'/><category term='Nick Drake Mirandés'/><category term='manos mirandés'/><category term='sendim regresso retrato'/><category term='giente de la mie tierra mariza Gente da minha terra mirandés Sendim'/><category term='José Saramago'/><category term='braveheart mirandés traduçon'/><category term='tiempo mirandés nino'/><category term='Biaiges a Pertual'/><category term='musica Kansas Scorpions Mirandés traduçon'/><category term='Evanescence'/><title type='text'>Assomadeiro</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>29</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-268597413349474985</id><published>2009-05-17T17:25:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T17:30:58.438+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Naide</title><content type='html'>(yá quantá nun te atualizaba)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sou solo un, chica adominada por uossos. A la fin nun tengo amiyo nanhun. Cumo todo mundo un don naide. Nien família. A la hora de la berdade tierra porriba.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-268597413349474985?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/268597413349474985/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=268597413349474985' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/268597413349474985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/268597413349474985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2009/05/naide.html' title='Naide'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-3890086646292810861</id><published>2008-11-17T19:52:00.005Z</published><updated>2008-11-17T20:06:09.891Z</updated><title type='text'>Calabouço (de ua prisioneira)</title><content type='html'>Palabras pobres ó ricas purferidas pulas pessonas&lt;br /&gt;Pensamientos perfundos ó delgeiros&lt;br /&gt;Pedidos porbocados puls deseios i pormessas&lt;br /&gt;Pul praino tan percurados&lt;br /&gt;Porbentura poética la fame...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-3890086646292810861?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/3890086646292810861/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=3890086646292810861' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/3890086646292810861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/3890086646292810861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/11/calabouo.html' title='Calabouço (de ua prisioneira)'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-6325593718119261509</id><published>2008-11-17T12:20:00.005Z</published><updated>2008-11-17T12:37:39.951Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Evanescence'/><title type='text'>Miu eimortal</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/B-A-4NQfFRs&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/B-A-4NQfFRs&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stou tan farta de star eiqui&lt;br /&gt;Reprimida puls mius miedos de anfáncia&lt;br /&gt;I se tu tubires que ir&lt;br /&gt;You quiero que tu te bás de ua beç&lt;br /&gt;Porque la tue persença inda anda porqui&lt;br /&gt;I nun me bai deixar sola&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estas fridas peç que nun curan&lt;br /&gt;Este delor ye rial demais&lt;br /&gt;Hai cousas a mais que l tiempo nun bota pa la rue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando choreste you limpei to las tues lágrimas &lt;br /&gt;Quando griteste you spantei to ls tous miedos&lt;br /&gt;I you sigurei la tue mano to estes anhos&lt;br /&gt;Mas inda tenes&lt;br /&gt;Todo de mi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu questumabas chamar-me la atençon&lt;br /&gt;Pula tue bida ressonante&lt;br /&gt;Agora stou presa pula bida que deixeste pa trás&lt;br /&gt;L tou rostro assombra&lt;br /&gt;Ls mius yá suonhos buonos&lt;br /&gt;La tue boç persigue &lt;br /&gt;To la sanidade an mi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You tentei tanto dezir-me que yá te fuste&lt;br /&gt;Mas inda assi stás cumigo&lt;br /&gt;You stube siempre sola&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;[My Immortal de ls Evanescence]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so tired of being here&lt;br /&gt;Suppressed by all my childish fears&lt;br /&gt;And if you have to leave&lt;br /&gt;I wish that you would just leave&lt;br /&gt;'Cause your presence still lingers here&lt;br /&gt;And it won't leave me alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These wounds won't seem to heal&lt;br /&gt;This pain is just too real&lt;br /&gt;There's just too much that time cannot erase&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears&lt;br /&gt;When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears&lt;br /&gt;And I held your hand through all of these years&lt;br /&gt;But you still have&lt;br /&gt;All of me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You used to captivate me&lt;br /&gt;By your resonating life&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm bound by the life you've left behind&lt;br /&gt;Your face it haunts&lt;br /&gt;My once pleasant dreams&lt;br /&gt;Your voice it chased away&lt;br /&gt;All the sanity in me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone&lt;br /&gt;But though you're still with me&lt;br /&gt;I've been alone all along&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-6325593718119261509?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/6325593718119261509/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=6325593718119261509' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/6325593718119261509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/6325593718119261509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/11/stou-tan-farta-de-star-eiqui-reprimida.html' title='Miu eimortal'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-6477295900234712627</id><published>2008-11-17T09:41:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-11-17T11:50:50.189Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='José Saramago'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Biaiges a Pertual'/><title type='text'>Son horas de almuorço</title><content type='html'>"An Sendin, son horas de almuorço. Que será, adonde será. Alguien diç al biajante: “Baia por essa rue fuora. Ende adiante hai un largo, i ne l largo ye l Restourante Grabiela. Pregunte pula tie Lice.” L biajante gusta dessa familiaridade. La rapazica de las mesas diç que la tie Lice stá an la cozina. L biajante spreita a la puorta, hai grandes oulores de quemida ne l aire que se respira, un caldeiron de berduras ferbe a un lado, i , de la outra banda de la grande mesa de l meio, la tie Lice pregunta al biajante que quier el quemer. L biajante stá habituado a que le lében la eimenta, habituado a scolher cun çcunfiança, i agora ten de preguntar, i anton la tie Lice aperpon la Puosta de bitela a la Mirandesa. Diç l biajante que si, bai sentar-se a la sue mesa, i para fazer boca trazen-le un suculento caldo de legumes, l bino i l pan, que será la puosta de bitela? Porquei puosta? Anton, puosta nun fui siempre de peixe? An que paíç stou, pregunta l biajante al copo do bino, que nun respunde i, benébolo, se deixa buber. Nun hai muito tiempo para preguntas. La puosta de bitela, gigantesca, ben nua trabessa, nadando an molho de binagre, i para caber ne l prato ten de ser cortada, ó quedarie a pingar pa la toalha. L biajante acha star sonhando. Chicha branda, que la faca corta sin sfuorço, tratada ne l eisato punto, i este molho de binagre que faç transpirar las bochechas de l rostro i ye cabal demunstraçon de que hai ua felcidade de l cuorpo."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cacho de Biaiges a Pertual – José Saramago&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pertués:&lt;br /&gt;"Em Sendim, são horas de almoço. Que será, onde será. Alguém diz ao viajante: “Siga por essa rua fora. Aí adiante há um largo, e no largo é o Restaurante Gabriela. Pergunte pela senhora Alice.” O viajante gosta dessa familiaridade. A mocinha das mesas diz que a senhora Alice está na cozinha. O viajante espreita à porta, há grandes odores de comida no ar que se respira, um caldeirão de verduras ferve a um lado, e , da outra banda da grande mesa do meio, a senhora Alice pergunta ao viajante que quer ele comer. O viajante está habituado a que lhe levem a ementa, habituado a escolher com desconfiança, e agora tem de perguntar, e então a senhora Alice propõe a Posta de Vitela à Mirandesa. Diz o viajante que sim, vai sentar-se à sua mesa, e para fazer boca trazem-lhe uma suculenta sopa de legumes, o vinho e o pão, que será a posta de vitela? Porquê posta? Então, posta não foi sempre de peixe? Em que país estou, pergunta o viajante ao copo do vinho, que não responde e, benévolo, se deixa beber. Não há muito tempo para perguntas. A posta de vitela, gigantesca, vem numa travessa, nadando em molho de vinagre, e para caber no prato tem de ser cortada, ou ficaria a pingar para a toalha. O viajante julga estar sonhando. Carne branda, que a faca corta sem esforço, tratada no exacto ponto, e este molho de vinagre que faz transpirar as maçãs do rosto e é cabal demonstração de que há uma felicidade do corpo."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excerto de Viagem a Portugal – José Saramago&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-6477295900234712627?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/6477295900234712627/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=6477295900234712627' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/6477295900234712627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/6477295900234712627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/11/son-horas-de-almuoro.html' title='Son horas de almuorço'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-1000523380263370560</id><published>2008-11-04T03:57:00.008Z</published><updated>2008-11-04T05:16:06.745Z</updated><title type='text'>Senhor Jones</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;object width="420" height="336"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/k1TciKBFMFExSRjbMB&amp;related=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/k1TciKBFMFExSRjbMB&amp;related=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="420" height="336" allowFullScreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2q0yh_counting-crows-mr-jones_music"&gt;Counting Crows - Mr. Jones&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Enviado por &lt;a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/Counting-Crows"&gt;Counting-Crows&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You staba zanimado an Amsterdon a mirar pa ua rapaza de pelo louro&lt;br /&gt;Senhor Jones começa ua cumbersa cun  esta dançarina de flamengo de pelo negro&lt;br /&gt;Eilha dança anquanto l sou pai toca guitarra&lt;br /&gt;Eilha ye derepiente guapa&lt;br /&gt;Todos nós queremos algo guapo&lt;br /&gt;You querie ser guapo&lt;br /&gt;Anton ben dançar este silénço pula manhana&lt;br /&gt;Cuorta Maria! Amostra-me alguas de las sues danças spanholas&lt;br /&gt;Bota acá la garrafa, senhor Jones&lt;br /&gt;Acretita an mi&lt;br /&gt;Faç-me acreditar an algo&lt;br /&gt;You quiero ser alguien que acredita&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senhor Jones i you cuntamos un al outro cuontos de fadas&lt;br /&gt;Miramos pa esta mulhier guapa&lt;br /&gt;"Eilha stá a mirar pa ti. Ah, nó, nó, eilha stá a mirar para mi."&lt;br /&gt;A rir an las luzes brilhantes&lt;br /&gt;Benindo atrabeç de la música&lt;br /&gt;Quando to l mundo te ama, tu nunca puodes star solo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You bou a pintar l miu quadro&lt;br /&gt;Pintar-me an azul i burmeilho i negro i cinzento&lt;br /&gt;To las quelores guapas son mui mui amportantes&lt;br /&gt;Cinzento ye la mie quelor purferida&lt;br /&gt;Onte you senti-me tan simbólico&lt;br /&gt;Se you conhecesse a Picasso&lt;br /&gt;You cumprava para mi ua guitarra cinzenta i tocaba&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senhor Jones i you miramos pa l feturo&lt;br /&gt;Miramos pa esta mulhier guapa&lt;br /&gt;"Eilha stá a mirar pa ti. Uh, acho que nó. Eilha stá a mirar para mi."&lt;br /&gt;An las luzes brilhantes&lt;br /&gt;You cumprava para mi ua guitarra cinzenta&lt;br /&gt;Quando to l mundo te ama, tu nunca puodes star solo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You quiero ser un lion&lt;br /&gt;To l mundo quier passar por gatos&lt;br /&gt;Todos nós queremos las streilhas bien grandes, mas tenemos defrentes rezones pa esso&lt;br /&gt;Acredita an mi porque you acredito an qualquiera cousa&lt;br /&gt;I you quiero ser alguien que acredita&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senhor Jones i you als trambulhones pul bairro&lt;br /&gt;Si nós miramos pa la mulhier guapa&lt;br /&gt;"Eilha ye perfeita pa ti, home, ten que haber alguien para mi."&lt;br /&gt;You quiero ser Bob Dylan&lt;br /&gt;Senhor Jones deseija que el fura un pouco mais "boubo"&lt;br /&gt;Quando to l mundo te ama, filho, ye l mais "boubo" que puodes ser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senhor Jones i you a mirar pa l bideo&lt;br /&gt;Quando you mirei pa la telibison, you querie ber-me a mirar para mi&lt;br /&gt;Todos nós queremos ser grandes streilhas, mas nun sabemos porquei i nun sabemos cumo&lt;br /&gt;Mas to l mundo me ama, you bou ser tan feliç cumo puoda ser&lt;br /&gt;Senhor Jones i you, nós bamos a ser grandes streilhas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Mr. Jones Lyrics de ls Counting Crows ]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anglés:&lt;br /&gt;I was down at the New Amsterdam staring at this yellow-haired girl&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Jones strikes up a conversation with this black-haired flamenco dancer&lt;br /&gt;She dances while his father plays guitar&lt;br /&gt;She's suddenly beautiful&lt;br /&gt;We all want something beautiful&lt;br /&gt;I wish I was beautiful&lt;br /&gt;So come dance this silence down through the morning&lt;br /&gt;Cut Maria! Show me some of them Spanish dances&lt;br /&gt;Pass me a bottle, Mr. Jones&lt;br /&gt;Believe in me&lt;br /&gt;Help me believe in anything&lt;br /&gt;I want to be someone who believes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Jones and me tell each other fairy tales&lt;br /&gt;Stare at the beautiful women&lt;br /&gt;"She's looking at you. Ah, no, no, she's looking at me."&lt;br /&gt;Smiling in the bright lights&lt;br /&gt;Coming through in stereo&lt;br /&gt;When everybody loves you, you can never be lonely&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will paint my picture&lt;br /&gt;Paint myself in blue and red and black and gray&lt;br /&gt;All of the beautiful colors are very very meaningful&lt;br /&gt;Grey is my favorite color&lt;br /&gt;I felt so symbolic yesterday&lt;br /&gt;If I knew Picasso&lt;br /&gt;I would buy myself a gray guitar and play&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Jones and me look into the future&lt;br /&gt;Stare at the beautiful women&lt;br /&gt;"She's looking at you.&lt;br /&gt;Uh, I don't think so. She's looking at me."&lt;br /&gt;Standing in the spotlight&lt;br /&gt;I bought myself a gray guitar&lt;br /&gt;When everybody loves me, I will never be lonely&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be a lion&lt;br /&gt;Everybody wants to pass as cats&lt;br /&gt;We all want to be big big stars, but we got different reasons for thatBelieve in me because I don't believe in anything&lt;br /&gt;and I want to be someone to believe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Jones and me stumbling through the barrio&lt;br /&gt;Yeah we stare at the beautiful women&lt;br /&gt;"She's perfect for you, Man, there's got to be somebody for me."&lt;br /&gt;I want to be Bob Dylan&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Jones wishes he was someone just a little more funky&lt;br /&gt;When everybody loves you, son, that's just about as funky as you can be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Jones and me staring at the video&lt;br /&gt;When I look at the television, I want to see me staring right back at me&lt;br /&gt;We all want to be big stars, but we don't know why and we don't know how&lt;br /&gt;But when everybody loves me, I'm going to be just about as happy as can be&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Jones and me, we're gonna be big stars...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-1000523380263370560?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/1000523380263370560/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=1000523380263370560' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/1000523380263370560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/1000523380263370560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/11/senhor-jones.html' title='Senhor Jones'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-8423367579224819049</id><published>2008-10-28T19:05:00.007Z</published><updated>2008-10-28T19:24:36.366Z</updated><title type='text'>L jogo</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xVhtX1pZS6M&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xVhtX1pZS6M&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Más un die an balde ne l jogo que naide ganhou&lt;br /&gt;Dá más cartas, abaixa la luç i ben squecer l amor&lt;br /&gt;Sós tu quien quier, sou you quien nun quier ber que todo ye más grande eiqui&lt;br /&gt;Stá friu demás para apostar an mi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bei que la nuite puode ser tan pouco cumo nós&lt;br /&gt;Neste quarto l tiempo ye miedo i l miedo faç-mos solos&lt;br /&gt;Sós tu quien quier mas you solo sei ber l tiempo yá passou i you scapei&lt;br /&gt;Que eiqui stá friu demás para me sentir...&lt;br /&gt;Mas quieres quedar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todo l que ye miu ye todo l que you nun sei largar&lt;br /&gt;Quieres lebar todo l que ye miu i todo l que you nun sei largar...&lt;br /&gt;Ben rasgar l scuro desta chuba que sujou&lt;br /&gt;Ben que la auga bai labar l que me dole&lt;br /&gt;Ben que nin l redadeiro a caer bai perder...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todo l que ye miu ye todo l que you nun sei largar&lt;br /&gt;Quieres lebar todo l que ye miu i todo l que you nun sei largar...&lt;br /&gt;Ben rasgar l scuro desta chuba que sujou&lt;br /&gt;Ben que la auga bai labar l que me dole&lt;br /&gt;Ben que nin l redadeiro a caer bai perder...&lt;br /&gt;Nó... Nun bás perder... Nun bai perder!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Tiago Bettencourt &amp; Mantha, O Jogo]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais um dia em vão no jogo em que ninguém ganhou&lt;br /&gt;Dá mais cartas, baixa a luz e vem esquecer o amor&lt;br /&gt;És tu quem quer, sou eu quem não quer ver que tudo é tão maior aqui&lt;br /&gt;Está frio demais para apostar em mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vê que a noite pode ser tão pouco como nós&lt;br /&gt;Neste quarto o tempo é medo e o medo faz-nos sós&lt;br /&gt;És tu quem quer mas eu só sei ver que o tempo já passou e eu fugi&lt;br /&gt;Que aqui está frio demais para me sentir...&lt;br /&gt;Mas queres ficar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tudo o que é meu é tudo o que eu não sei largar&lt;br /&gt;Queres levar tudo o que é meu e tudo o que eu não sei largar...&lt;br /&gt;Vem rasgar o escuro desta chuva que sujou&lt;br /&gt;Vem que a água vai lavar o que me dói&lt;br /&gt;Vem que nem o último a cair vai perder...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tudo o que é meu é tudo o que eu não sei largar&lt;br /&gt;Queres levar tudo o que é meu e tudo o que eu não sei largar...&lt;br /&gt;Vem rasgar o escuro desta chuva que sujou&lt;br /&gt;Vem que a água vai lavar o que me dói&lt;br /&gt;Vem que nem o último a cair vai perder...&lt;br /&gt;Não... Não vai perder... Não vai perder!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-8423367579224819049?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/8423367579224819049/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=8423367579224819049' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/8423367579224819049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/8423367579224819049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/10/l-jogo.html' title='L jogo'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-5733699985881136021</id><published>2008-10-27T18:07:00.007Z</published><updated>2008-10-27T19:41:24.129Z</updated><title type='text'>Cantiga Simples</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_B5KwtvHg4g&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_B5KwtvHg4g&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hai qualquier cousa de lebe an la tue mano,&lt;br /&gt;Qualquier cousa que calece l coraçon.&lt;br /&gt;Hai qualquier cousa caliente quando stás,&lt;br /&gt;Qualquier cousa que agarra i mos çfaç.&lt;br /&gt;I...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito más que l sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito más que l sol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La forma de ls tous braços subre ls mius,&lt;br /&gt;L tiempo de ls mius uolhos subre ls tous.&lt;br /&gt;Deço ne ls tous ombros pa probar&lt;br /&gt;Todo l que pediste pa lebar.&lt;br /&gt;I...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito más que l sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito más que l sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito más que l sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito más...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tenes ls raios fuortes a queimar&lt;br /&gt;Todo l gelo friu que custruí.&lt;br /&gt;Entras ne l miu sangre debagar&lt;br /&gt;I you a arramar adentro de ti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tenes ls raios brancos cumo un riu,&lt;br /&gt;Sou quien sal de l scuro pa te ber,&lt;br /&gt;Tenes ls raios puros ne l lunar,&lt;br /&gt;Sou quien bózia fundo pa te tener.&lt;br /&gt;I...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito más que l sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito más que l sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito más que l sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito más ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero ber las quelores que tu bés&lt;br /&gt;Pa saber la dança que tu [sós]yes.&lt;br /&gt;Quero ser de l biento que te faç,&lt;br /&gt;Quero ser de l spacio onde stás.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deixa ser tan lebe la tue mano,&lt;br /&gt;Para ser tan simples la cantiga.&lt;br /&gt;Deixa ser das froles al respirar&lt;br /&gt;Para ser mais fácele te ancuntrar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I...&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito más que l sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito más que l sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito más que l sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito más...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben scachar l miedo, ben&lt;br /&gt;Saber se hai apuis&lt;br /&gt;I sentir que somos dous,&lt;br /&gt;Mas que juntos somos más.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero ser rezon pa seres maior.&lt;br /&gt;Quero te oufrecer l miu melhor.&lt;br /&gt;Quero ser rezon pa seres maior.&lt;br /&gt;Quero te oufrecer l mui melhor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I...&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito más que l sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito más que l sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito más que l sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito más que l sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito más que l sol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Canção Simples de Tiago Bettencourt &amp; Mantha]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há qualquer coisa de leve na tua mão,&lt;br /&gt;Qualquer coisa que aquece o coração.&lt;br /&gt;Há qualquer coisa quente quando estás,&lt;br /&gt;Qualquer coisa que prende e nos desfaz.&lt;br /&gt;E...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito mais que o sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito mais que o sol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A forma dos teus braços sobre os meus,&lt;br /&gt;O tempo dos meus olhos sobre os teus.&lt;br /&gt;Desço nos teus ombros pra provar&lt;br /&gt;Tudo o que pediste pra levar.&lt;br /&gt;E...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito mais que o sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito mais que o sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito mais que o sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito mais...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tens os raios fortes a queimar&lt;br /&gt;Todo o gelo frio que construí.&lt;br /&gt;Entras no meu sangue devagar&lt;br /&gt;E eu a transbordar dentro de ti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tens os raios brancos como um rio,&lt;br /&gt;Sou quem sai do escuro pra te ver,&lt;br /&gt;Tens os raios puros no luar,&lt;br /&gt;Sou quem grita fundo pra te ter.&lt;br /&gt;E...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito mais que o sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito mais que o sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito mais que o sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito mais...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero ver as cores que tu vês&lt;br /&gt;*Pra* saber a dança que tu és.&lt;br /&gt;Quero ser do vento que te faz,&lt;br /&gt;Quero ser do espaço onde estás.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deixa ser tão leve a tua mão,&lt;br /&gt;Para ser tão simples a canção.&lt;br /&gt;Deixa ser das flores o respirar&lt;br /&gt;Para ser mais fácil te encontrar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E...&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito mais que o sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito mais que o sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito mais que o sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito mais...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vem quebrar o medo, vem&lt;br /&gt;Saber se há depois&lt;br /&gt;E sentir que somos dois,&lt;br /&gt;Mas que juntos somos mais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero ser razão *pra* seres maior.&lt;br /&gt;Quero te oferecer o meu melhor.&lt;br /&gt;Quero ser razão *pra* seres maior.&lt;br /&gt;Quero te oferecer o meu melhor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E...&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito mais que o sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito mais que o sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito mais que o sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito mais que o sol.&lt;br /&gt;Fazes muito mais que o sol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-5733699985881136021?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/5733699985881136021/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=5733699985881136021' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/5733699985881136021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/5733699985881136021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/10/cantiga-simples.html' title='Cantiga Simples'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-5161085877040457454</id><published>2008-10-25T23:53:00.011+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T19:42:11.710Z</updated><title type='text'>Aproveitai l die rapazes</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/C7Ntqg2BiVg&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/C7Ntqg2BiVg&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              KEATING&lt;br /&gt;               Agora, senhor… Pitts. Este ye un nome algo anfeliç. Senhor Pitts, adonde stá l senhor?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pitts albanta la mano anquanto to l mundo alredror spreita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              KEATING&lt;br /&gt;Senhor Pitts, poderie abrir l sou libro an la páigina 542 i ler la purmeira strofe de l poema que ancuntrar alhá?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                               Pitts&lt;br /&gt;                "Para las birges, para fazer muito de l tiempo"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                               KEATING&lt;br /&gt;                Si, ye essa. Mais ó menos adequado, nun ye berdade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                               Pitts&lt;br /&gt;                "Ajunta l boton de rosas anquanto pudires. &lt;br /&gt;  L tiempo bielho inda stá a bolar. &lt;br /&gt;  I esta mesma flor que stá a rir hoije&lt;br /&gt;  manhana bai star a morrer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                               KEATING&lt;br /&gt;                Oubrigado Sr. Pitts. "Ajunta l boton de rosas anquanto pudires."&lt;br /&gt;  L termo an latin pa l sentimento ye Carpe Diem. &lt;br /&gt;  Agora, quien sabe l que quier dezir?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meeks nistante pon la mano pa riba.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                               MEEKS&lt;br /&gt;                Carpe Diem. Esso ye "aprobeita l die."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                               KEATING&lt;br /&gt;                Mui bien, senhor...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                               MEEKS&lt;br /&gt;                Meeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                               KEATING&lt;br /&gt;                Meeks. Outro nome ambulgar. Aprobeitar l&lt;br /&gt;                die. Ajunta l boton de rosas anquanto pudires.&lt;br /&gt;                Porque ye que l scritor outeliza estas linhas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                               CHARLIE&lt;br /&gt;                Porque stá cun priessa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                               KEATING&lt;br /&gt;                Nó, ding!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keating BATE cula sue mano para baixo subre ua buzina manginária.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                               KEATING&lt;br /&gt;                Bien haias por jogar a la miesma. Porque nós&lt;br /&gt;                somos quemida pa ls bichos rapazes. Porque, acrediten&lt;br /&gt;                ó nó, todos i cada un de nós nesta sala un die bai a parar de &lt;br /&gt;                respirar, quedar friu i morrer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keating bira-se para las stantes de las taças, cheno de taças, bolas i retratos de eiquipas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                               KEATING&lt;br /&gt;                Agora you gustarie que bos achegassádes eiqui&lt;br /&gt;                i mirassádes algues de las caras de l buosso passado.&lt;br /&gt;  Yá passeste por eilhes muita beç. Mas acho que nunca ls mirestes mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ls studantes ajuntan-se debagar alredror de la stante i Keating pon-se atrás deilhes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                               KEATING&lt;br /&gt;                Eilhes nun son defrentes de bós, ó son? &lt;br /&gt;                Mesmo corte de pelo. Chenos de huormonas,&lt;br /&gt;                Cumo bós. Ambencibles, tal cumo bos sentis.&lt;br /&gt;                L mundo ye la sue ostra. Eilhes&lt;br /&gt;                acreditában que stában çtinados a grandes cousas,&lt;br /&gt;                tal cumo muitos de bós. Ls sous uolhos stan chenos&lt;br /&gt;                de spráncia, tal cumo bós. Será que sperórun até&lt;br /&gt;                ser mui tarde para fazer de la sue bida&lt;br /&gt;                sequiera un cachico pequeinho de l que eilhes éran capazes?&lt;br /&gt;                Porque stais a ber mius senhores, estes rapazes son&lt;br /&gt;                agora adubo. Mas se bós ls oubirdes bien de cerca,&lt;br /&gt;                podeis oubir-los sussurrar l que deixórun para bós.&lt;br /&gt;                Botai alhá, achegai-bos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ls rapazes anclinan-se i Keating pon-se arriba de l ombro de Cameron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                               KEATING&lt;br /&gt;                         (sussurrando an boç bruta)&lt;br /&gt;                Carpe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cameron mira subre l sou ombro cun ua spresson de agrabamiento ne l sou rostro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                               KEATING&lt;br /&gt;                Oubíde-los?&lt;br /&gt;                         (sussurrando outra beç)&lt;br /&gt;                Carpe. Carpe Diem. Aprobeitai l die rapazes,&lt;br /&gt;                fazei las buossas bidas straourdinárias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Cacho de las falas de l filme Dead Poet Society]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anglés:&lt;br /&gt;KEATING&lt;br /&gt;               Now, Mr… Pitts. That's a rather&lt;br /&gt;               unfortunate name. Mr. Pitts, where are&lt;br /&gt;               you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pitts raises his hand while everyone around him snickers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              KEATING&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Pitts, would you open your hymnal to page 542 and read the first&lt;br /&gt;stanza of the poem you find there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              PITTS&lt;br /&gt;               "To the virgins, to make much of time"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              KEATING&lt;br /&gt;               Yes, that's the one. Somewhat appropriate,&lt;br /&gt;               isn't it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              PITTS&lt;br /&gt;               "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, old&lt;br /&gt;               time is still a flying, and this same&lt;br /&gt;               flower that smiles today, tomorrow will&lt;br /&gt;               be dying."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              KEATING&lt;br /&gt;               Thank you Mr. Pitts. "Gather ye rosebuds&lt;br /&gt;               while ye may." The Latin term for that&lt;br /&gt;               sentiment is Carpe Diem. Now who knows&lt;br /&gt;               what that means?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meeks immediately puts his hand up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              MEEKS&lt;br /&gt;               Carpe Diem. That's "seize the day."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              KEATING&lt;br /&gt;               Very good, Mr.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              MEEKS&lt;br /&gt;               Meeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              KEATING&lt;br /&gt;               Meeks. Another unusual name. Seize the&lt;br /&gt;               day. Gather ye rosebuds while ye may.&lt;br /&gt;               Why does the writer use these lines?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              CHARLIE&lt;br /&gt;               Because he's in a hurry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              KEATING&lt;br /&gt;               No, ding!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keating slams his hand down on an imaginary buzzer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              KEATING&lt;br /&gt;               Thank you for playing anyway. Because we&lt;br /&gt;               are food for worms lads. Because, believe&lt;br /&gt;               it or not, each and every one of us in&lt;br /&gt;               this room is one day going to stop&lt;br /&gt;               breathing, turn cold, and die. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keating turns towards the trophy cases, filled with trophies, footballs,&lt;br /&gt;and team pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              KEATING&lt;br /&gt;               Now I would like you to step forward over&lt;br /&gt;               here and peruse some of the faces from&lt;br /&gt;               the past. You've walked past them many&lt;br /&gt;               times. I don't think you've really looked&lt;br /&gt;               at them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The students slowly gather round the cases and Keating moves behind them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              KEATING&lt;br /&gt;               They're not that different from you, are&lt;br /&gt;               they? Same haircuts. Full of hormones,&lt;br /&gt;               just like you. Invincible, just like you&lt;br /&gt;               feel. The world is their oyster. They&lt;br /&gt;               believe they're destined for great things,&lt;br /&gt;               just like many of you. Their eyes are full&lt;br /&gt;               of hope, just like you. Did they wait until&lt;br /&gt;               it was too late to make from their lives&lt;br /&gt;               even one iota of what they were capable?&lt;br /&gt;               Because you see gentlmen, these boys are&lt;br /&gt;               now fertilizing daffodils. But if you listen&lt;br /&gt;               real close, you can hear them whisper their&lt;br /&gt;               legacy to you. Go on, lean in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys lean in and Keating hovers over Cameron's shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              KEATING&lt;br /&gt;                        (whispering in a gruff voice)&lt;br /&gt;               Carpe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cameron looks over his shoulder with an aggravated expression on his face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              KEATING&lt;br /&gt;               Hear it?&lt;br /&gt;                        (whispering again)&lt;br /&gt;               Carpe. Carpe Diem. Seize the day boys,&lt;br /&gt;               make your lives extraordinary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-5161085877040457454?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/5161085877040457454/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=5161085877040457454' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/5161085877040457454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/5161085877040457454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/10/aproveitai-l-die-rapazes.html' title='Aproveitai l die rapazes'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-5668042396161706517</id><published>2008-10-23T12:18:00.017+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T17:09:46.166Z</updated><title type='text'>Grandes Spráncias</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8ioavsW0tgI&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8ioavsW0tgI&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para alhá de l hourizonte de l lugar adonde morábamos quando éramos garotos&lt;br /&gt;Nun mundo de ímanes i milagres&lt;br /&gt;Ls nuossos pensamentos benien cunstatemiente i sin frunteira&lt;br /&gt;L sonido de la campana de debison ampeçou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pula strada cumprida i ambaixo de la puonte&lt;br /&gt;Será que eilhes se cuntinan a ancuntrar al birar de la squina&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Houbo ua cambada braba que seguiu ls nuossos passos&lt;br /&gt;A correr antes que l tiempo mos lebasse ls nuossos suonhos&lt;br /&gt;Deixando uns quantos pequeinhos bichos a ber se mos amarrarában al suolo&lt;br /&gt;Pa ua bida cunsemida de decadéncia bagarosa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La yerba staba mais berde&lt;br /&gt;La luç mais clara&lt;br /&gt;Cun amigos alredror&lt;br /&gt;La nuite marabilhosa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mirando para alhá de las puontes an brasa a brilhar atrás de nós&lt;br /&gt;Para tener un piçcar de como era l berde de l outro lado&lt;br /&gt;Passos dados palantre mas retornou l sonambulismo&lt;br /&gt;Arrastrados pula fuorça d'algue maré anterior&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ne l mais alto cula bandeira çfraldada&lt;br /&gt;Chegamos a las alturas, de poner un boubo, que l mundo suonhaba&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preseguida para siempre pulas ganas i la ambiçon.&lt;br /&gt;Inda hai ua fame por sastifazer&lt;br /&gt;Ls nuossos uolhos cansados inda mirran l'hourizonte&lt;br /&gt;Inda que nessa rue stubíramos muita beç&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La yerba staba mais berde&lt;br /&gt;La luç era mais clara&lt;br /&gt;L sabor staba mais docico&lt;br /&gt;La nuite marabilhosa&lt;br /&gt;Cun amigos alredror&lt;br /&gt;La nubrina de amanhecer brilhante&lt;br /&gt;L'auga cuorre&lt;br /&gt;L riu sin fin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para siempre i siempre&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[High Hopes de ls Pink Floyd]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young&lt;br /&gt;In a world of magnets and miracles&lt;br /&gt;Our thoughts strayed constantly and without boundary&lt;br /&gt;The ringing of the division bell had begun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along the Long Road and on down the Causeway&lt;br /&gt;Do they still meet there by the Cut&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a ragged band that followed in our footsteps&lt;br /&gt;Running before time took our dreams away&lt;br /&gt;Leaving the myriad small creatures trying to tie us to the ground&lt;br /&gt;To a life consumed by slow decay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The grass was greener&lt;br /&gt;The light was brighter&lt;br /&gt;With friends surrounded&lt;br /&gt;The nights of wonder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking beyond the embers of bridges glowing behind us&lt;br /&gt;To a glimpse of how green it was on the other side&lt;br /&gt;Steps taken forwards but sleepwalking back again&lt;br /&gt;Dragged by the force of some inner tide&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At a higher altitude with flag unfurled&lt;br /&gt;We reached the dizzy heights of that dreamed of world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encumbered forever by desire and ambition&lt;br /&gt;There's a hunger still unsatisfied&lt;br /&gt;Our weary eyes still stray to the horizon&lt;br /&gt;Though down this road we've been so many times&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The grass was greener&lt;br /&gt;The light was brighter&lt;br /&gt;The taste was sweeter&lt;br /&gt;The nights of wonder&lt;br /&gt;With friends surrounded&lt;br /&gt;The dawn mist glowing&lt;br /&gt;The water flowing&lt;br /&gt;The endless river&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forever and ever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-5668042396161706517?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/5668042396161706517/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=5668042396161706517' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/5668042396161706517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/5668042396161706517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/10/grandes-sprncias.html' title='Grandes Spráncias'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-3213454201170106977</id><published>2008-10-17T03:01:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T03:23:10.997+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Postal de ls Correios</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zHjRn6n0CZQ&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zHjRn6n0CZQ&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Querida mai, querido pai. Anton que tal?&lt;br /&gt;Nós andamos de l jeito que Dius quier&lt;br /&gt;Antre ls dies que pássan menos mal&lt;br /&gt;Alhá aparece un que mos dá mais guerra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas falemos de cousas bien melhores&lt;br /&gt;Lourinda faç bestidos por medida&lt;br /&gt;L rapaç studa ne ls cumputadores&lt;br /&gt;Dízen que ye un amprego cun salida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acá chigou cumo debe ser la ancomenda&lt;br /&gt;Pul "spresso" que parou a la Piedade&lt;br /&gt;Pan de tri[g|h]o i chouriça pa la merenda&lt;br /&gt;Siempre dá p'anganar la suidade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spero que nun demoren a ambiar&lt;br /&gt;Amboras na respuosta de l correiro&lt;br /&gt;La ribeira cuorre bien ó bai secar?&lt;br /&gt;Cumo stan las oulibeiras de "Redundal"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yá nun tengo mais assunto pa screbir&lt;br /&gt;Cumprimentos a la nuossa cambada&lt;br /&gt;Un abraço deste que tanto bos quier&lt;br /&gt;Sou capaç de ir ende pul Natal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Postal de ls Correios, de ls Rio Grande]&lt;br /&gt;Pertués:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Querida mãe, querido pai. Então que tal?&lt;br /&gt;Nós andamos do jeito que Deus quer&lt;br /&gt;Entre dias que passam menos mal&lt;br /&gt;Em vem um que nos dá mais que fazer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas falemos de coisas bem melhores&lt;br /&gt;A Laurinda faz vestidos por medida&lt;br /&gt;O rapaz estuda nos computadores&lt;br /&gt;Dizem que é um emprego com saída&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cá chegou direitinha a encomenda&lt;br /&gt;Pelo "expresso" que parou na Piedade&lt;br /&gt;Pão de trigo e linguiça pra merenda&lt;br /&gt;Sempre dá para enganar a saudade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero que não demorem a mandar&lt;br /&gt;Novidade na volta do correio&lt;br /&gt;A ribeira corre bem ou vai secar?&lt;br /&gt;Como estão as oliveiras de "Candeio"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já não tenho mais assunto pra escrever&lt;br /&gt;Cumprimentos ao nosso pessoal&lt;br /&gt;Um abraço deste que tanto vos quer&lt;br /&gt;Sou capaz de ir aí pelo Natal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-3213454201170106977?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/3213454201170106977/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=3213454201170106977' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/3213454201170106977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/3213454201170106977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/10/postal-de-ls-correios.html' title='Postal de ls Correios'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-708548054824160203</id><published>2008-10-15T03:47:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T04:30:22.665+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Feiticeira</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NjHgxzyrm5E&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NjHgxzyrm5E&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feiticeira&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De que nuite tardega&lt;br /&gt;Ó de que brebe manhana&lt;br /&gt;Beniste tu, feiticeira&lt;br /&gt;De Nubes zlumbrada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De que suonho feito mar&lt;br /&gt;Ó de que mar nun sonhado&lt;br /&gt;Beniste tu, feiticeira&lt;br /&gt;Acunchegar al miu lado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De que fuogo renacido&lt;br /&gt;Ó de que lume apagado&lt;br /&gt;Beniste tu, feiticeira&lt;br /&gt;Segrediar-me al oubido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De que fuontes de que augas&lt;br /&gt;De que suolo de que hourizonte&lt;br /&gt;De que niebes de que fraugas&lt;br /&gt;De que sedes de que montes&lt;br /&gt;De que norte de que lida&lt;br /&gt;De que zerto de muorte&lt;br /&gt;Beniste tu feiticeira&lt;br /&gt;Ancharcar-me de bida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Feiticeira, Luís Represas]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pertués:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De que noite demorada&lt;br /&gt;Ou de que breve manhã&lt;br /&gt;Vieste tu, feiticeira&lt;br /&gt;De nuvens deslumbrada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De que sonho feito mar&lt;br /&gt;Ou de que mar não sonhado&lt;br /&gt;Vieste tu, feiticeira&lt;br /&gt;Aninhar-te ao meu lado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De que fogo renascido&lt;br /&gt;Ou de que lume apagado&lt;br /&gt;Vieste tu, feiticeira&lt;br /&gt;Segredar-me ao ouvido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De que fontes de que águas&lt;br /&gt;De que chão de que horizonte&lt;br /&gt;De que neves de que fráguas&lt;br /&gt;De que sedes de que montes&lt;br /&gt;De que norte de que lida&lt;br /&gt;De que deserto de morte&lt;br /&gt;Vieste tu feiticeira&lt;br /&gt;Inundar-me de vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-708548054824160203?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/708548054824160203/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=708548054824160203' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/708548054824160203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/708548054824160203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/10/feiticeira.html' title='Feiticeira'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-8862127618935796007</id><published>2008-10-14T08:22:00.008+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T08:53:57.559+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Naide puode drumir!</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="http://www.seeqpod.com/cache/seeqpodSlimlineEmbed.swf" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="80" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="domain=http://www.seeqpod.com&amp;playlistXMLPath=http://www.seeqpod.com/api/music/getPlaylist?playlist_id=3c0159775b"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mirandés:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naide puode drumir!...Naide puode drumir!&lt;br /&gt;I tu, tamien, princesa,&lt;br /&gt;ne l tou quarto friu,&lt;br /&gt;Beis las streilhas&lt;br /&gt;Que tembran d'amor&lt;br /&gt;i de spráncia!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas l segredo stá guardado cumigo,&lt;br /&gt;naide há-de saber l miu nome!&lt;br /&gt;Nó, nó, you hei-de te lo dezir an la tue boca&lt;br /&gt;Quando l amanhecer chigar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I l miu beiso bai a scachar l siléncio &lt;br /&gt;que te torna mie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(naide há-de saber l miu nome,&lt;br /&gt;i nós, anfelizmente, habemos de murrir!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zaparece, oh nuite!&lt;br /&gt;Scundei-bos, oh streilhas!&lt;br /&gt;Al amanhecer you hei-de ganhar!&lt;br /&gt;Hei-de ganhar, hei-de ganhar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Nessun Dorma de Giacomo Puccini, &lt;br /&gt;cantado ne l tocadeiro arriba por Luciano Pavarotti]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eitaliano:&lt;br /&gt;Nessun dorma! Nessun dorma!&lt;br /&gt;Tu pure, o, Principessa,&lt;br /&gt;nella tua fredda stanza,&lt;br /&gt;guardi le stelle&lt;br /&gt;che tremano d'amore&lt;br /&gt;e di speranza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma il mio mistero e chiuso in me,&lt;br /&gt;il nome mio nessun saprá!&lt;br /&gt;No, no, sulla tua bocca lo diró&lt;br /&gt;quando la luce splenderá!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ed il mio bacio sciogliera il silenzio&lt;br /&gt;che ti fa mia!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Il nome suo nessun saprá!...&lt;br /&gt;e noi dovrem, ahimé, morir!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dilegua, o notte!&lt;br /&gt;Tramontate, stelle!&lt;br /&gt;Tramontate, stelle!&lt;br /&gt;All'alba vinceró!&lt;br /&gt;vinceró, vinceró!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anglés:&lt;br /&gt;None must sleep! None must sleep!&lt;br /&gt;And you, too, Princess,&lt;br /&gt;in your cold room,&lt;br /&gt;gaze at the stars&lt;br /&gt;which tremble with love&lt;br /&gt;and hope!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my secret is locked within me,&lt;br /&gt;no-one shall know my name!&lt;br /&gt;No, no, I shall say it on your mouth&lt;br /&gt;when the light breaks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my kiss will break the silence&lt;br /&gt;that makes you mine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(No-one shall know his name,&lt;br /&gt;and we, alas, shall die!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vanish, o night!&lt;br /&gt;Fade, stars!&lt;br /&gt;At dawn I shall win!&lt;br /&gt;I shall win, I shall win!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-8862127618935796007?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/8862127618935796007/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=8862127618935796007' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/8862127618935796007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/8862127618935796007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/10/naide-puode-drumir.html' title='Naide puode drumir!'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-3984463090898971812</id><published>2008-10-13T21:05:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T23:28:28.054+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Quien quier bibir para siempre</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="http://www.seeqpod.com/cache/seeqpodSlimlineEmbed.swf" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="80" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="domain=http://www.seeqpod.com&amp;playlistXMLPath=http://www.seeqpod.com/api/music/getPlaylist?playlist_id=b789118cb0"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quien quier bibir para siempre&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nun hai tiempo para nós&lt;br /&gt;Nun hai lugar para nós&lt;br /&gt;L que ye esto que custrui ls nuossos suonhos i inda assi se scapa&lt;br /&gt;De nós&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quien quier bibir para siempre&lt;br /&gt;Quien quier bibir para siempre....?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nun hai nanhue heipótese para nós&lt;br /&gt;Stá todo decedido para nós&lt;br /&gt;Este mundo solo ten ua sfergante docico reserbado para nós  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quien quier bibir para siempre&lt;br /&gt;Quien quier bibir para siempre?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quien se atrebe a amar para siempre?&lt;br /&gt;Quando l amor ten que murrir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas toca las mies lágrimas culs tous lábios&lt;br /&gt;Toca l miu mundo cula punta de ls tous dedos&lt;br /&gt;I nós puodemos tener l para siempre&lt;br /&gt;I nós puodemos amar para siempre&lt;br /&gt;Para siempre ye l nuosso hoije&lt;br /&gt;Quien quier bibir para siempre&lt;br /&gt;Quien quier bibir para siempre?&lt;br /&gt;Para siempre ye l nuosso hoije&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas tamien quien queda a la spera para siempre?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Who Wants to Live Forever, de ls Queen]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anglés:&lt;br /&gt;Who Wants to Live Forever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Theres no time for us&lt;br /&gt;Theres no place for us&lt;br /&gt;What is this thing that builds our dreams yet slips away&lt;br /&gt;From us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who wants to live forever&lt;br /&gt;Who wants to live forever....?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Theres no chance for us&lt;br /&gt;Its all decided for us&lt;br /&gt;This world has only one sweet moment set aside for us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who wants to live forever&lt;br /&gt;Who wants to live forever?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who dares to love forever?&lt;br /&gt;When love must die&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But touch my tears with your lips&lt;br /&gt;Touch my world with your fingertips&lt;br /&gt;And we can have forever&lt;br /&gt;And we can love forever&lt;br /&gt;Forever is our today&lt;br /&gt;Who wants to live forever&lt;br /&gt;Who wants to live forever?&lt;br /&gt;Forever is our today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who waits forever anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-3984463090898971812?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/3984463090898971812/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=3984463090898971812' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/3984463090898971812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/3984463090898971812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/10/quien-quier-bibir-para-siempre.html' title='Quien quier bibir para siempre'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-1751783085502807526</id><published>2008-10-01T03:52:00.017+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T19:26:25.493Z</updated><title type='text'>Senhor Pursidente</title><content type='html'>Senhor pursidente, &lt;br /&gt;   Dius le deia buonos dies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    You bien sei que inda passou pouco tiempo zde que l senhor stube por aqueilhes lados. Mas inda assi cuido que ten que retornar, mas cun uolhos de ber.&lt;br /&gt;    Retorne alhá mas nun traga tanto aparato. Deixe l sou Mercédes an la garaige. Benga cun un altemoble cun ua matricula cumo la de todo mundo. Benga. De camboio nun hai un que faga l camino todo, assi bai tener que benir mesmo de altemoble. Ye bien loinge bien sei, mas faga siempre por cumprir l código de la strada. A mi la Guardia ua beç yá me ambiou un belhete pa l cinema, mas nun ls antendi que por aqueilhes lados nun hai cinema, a nun ser cun Charrau i esse ye pa quien quejir ber. Buono, nun tenga priessas porque bai a demorar un cachico buono. Mas bá, benga. Nin que tenga que ser por Spanha.&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;    Benga pa l mei de l pobo, ye a eilhes que ls ten que oubir, ye la sue boç que debe ser oubida. Benga oubir las sues afliçones, l sou zanimo. &lt;br /&gt;    Puode ser que tenga oubido falar an Mirandés, mas inda assi fui un Mirandés mui alperaltado, mui ansaiado i mui cipe-çape. &lt;br /&gt;    L Mirandés berdadeiro stá ne l coraçon de quien nun l pensa. &lt;br /&gt;    Deia un cachico de atençon a esta léngua que stá a la spera de la muorte. Cula aiuda de to l mundo inda bai mei ressucitando, mas cula sue boç pa dar ua upa a la léngua podie ser que se spabilásse inda mais un cachico.&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;    Benga passiar, mesmo a pie, nin percisa de andar ne l barco de ls spanholes sin lo saber, ó nó, i fazer de cuonta que hai ouferta pa ls turistas. Deia quatro saltos an liberdade. Aire puro ye defícele ancuntra-lo melhor an Pertual i por muito lado. Eiqui tamien nun ten que se afligir culs abiones a passar-le porriba de la cachimónia. Bai ber que puode andar tranquilo. &lt;br /&gt;    L transito maior que puode acaçar ye cun burros i mesmo assi yá naide se acumpara cun antigamente. Si, burros hai muitos, mas you digo ls que stan an bias de stinçon.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;    Stando acá puode quemer i ampeçar a angordar un cachico. La sue tie bai a gustar. Porbe de la posta, chouriços, bulhos, las tabafeias i ls folares. Yá nin falo an guendilhas, pumientos i por ende. Mesmo ua fogaça bal mais que todo l pan desses panes de forma. Todo esto acumpanhada cun ua pinga. Claro nun puode trazer cul senhor ls ASAE senó cun tanta sigurança alimentar l senhor inda passa fame. Tamien nun queremos que se ancerre to ls cantos que hai por ende senó ye que se muorre porqui, que l negócio yá nun abunda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Baia a ber cumo las pessonas tratan de la sue huorta, de las sues binhas, cumo se fusse ua filha. Cun amor, muito trato i laborico. Cul amor que le ténen a las sues cousas bien les puode pagar que nun la abandonan. Solo la mandriaige (i quien nun puode mesmo bá, mas cuitados) ye que bai a quedar cul denheiro i se bai a fazer selombra pa debaixo de la moreira.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Benga. Beia a ber, mas cun uolhos de giente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Culs melhores cumprimentos,&lt;br /&gt;Cecílio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-1751783085502807526?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/1751783085502807526/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=1751783085502807526' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/1751783085502807526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/1751783085502807526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/10/senhor-pursidente.html' title='Senhor Pursidente'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-117428424262215043</id><published>2008-09-27T16:41:00.013+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T04:20:26.820+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Biba la Bida</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="http://www.seeqpod.com/cache/seeqpodSlimlineEmbed.swf" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="80" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="domain=http://www.seeqpod.com&amp;playlistXMLPath=http://www.seeqpod.com/api/music/getPlaylist?playlist_id=0729c0470d"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You dominaba l mundo&lt;br /&gt;Ls mares alibantában-se quando you dezi&lt;br /&gt;Agora pula manhana you arrastro-me solo&lt;br /&gt;Arrastro-me pulas rues adonde you era duonho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You questumaba lançar ls dados&lt;br /&gt;Santir l miedo ne ls uolhos de l einemigo&lt;br /&gt;Oubir cumo la multidon debie cantar:&lt;br /&gt;"Agora l bielho rei stá muorto! Longa bida pa l rei!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un minuto you tube la chabe&lt;br /&gt;Acerca de las paredes que se me ancerrórun&lt;br /&gt;I çcubri que ls castielhos stában de pie&lt;br /&gt;Subre pilares de sal i pilares de arena&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You oubo las campanas de Jarusalen a tocar&lt;br /&gt;Ls coros de cabalarie Romana a cantar&lt;br /&gt;Sei l miu speilho, la mie spada i scudo&lt;br /&gt;Ls mius missionairos an tierras çcoincidas&lt;br /&gt;Por algue rezon que nun cunsigo splicar&lt;br /&gt;Apuis de ires alhá nun hai, nunca ua palabra hounesta&lt;br /&gt;Esso era quando you dominaba l mundo&lt;br /&gt;(Ohhh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Era la bentanie sin piedade i selbaige&lt;br /&gt;Assuprou cuntra las puortas pa me deixar antrar&lt;br /&gt;Jinelas stalhadas i l rugido de tambores&lt;br /&gt;Las pessonas nin se fintában ne l que you me tornei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ls rebolucionários a la spera&lt;br /&gt;Pula mie cachimónia nua bandeija de prata&lt;br /&gt;Solo un caramono nun cuorda suolta&lt;br /&gt;Oh quien quererá ser l rei?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You oubo las campanas de Jarusalen a tocar&lt;br /&gt;Ls coros de cabalarie Romana a cantar&lt;br /&gt;Sei l miu speilho, la mie spada i scudo&lt;br /&gt;Ls mius missionairos an tierras çcoincidas&lt;br /&gt;Por algue rezon que nun cunsigo splicar&lt;br /&gt;You sei que San Pedro bai a chamar pul miu nome&lt;br /&gt;Nunca ua palabra hounesta&lt;br /&gt;Mas esso era quando you dominaba l mundo&lt;br /&gt;(Ohhhhh Ohhh Ohhh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You oubo las campanas de Jarusalen a tocar&lt;br /&gt;Ls coros de cabalarie Romana a cantar&lt;br /&gt;Sei l miu speilho, la mie spada i scudo&lt;br /&gt;Ls mius missionairos an tierras çcoincidas&lt;br /&gt;Por algue rezon que nun cunsigo splicar&lt;br /&gt;You sei que San Pedro bai a chamar pul miu nome&lt;br /&gt;Nunca ua palabra hounesta&lt;br /&gt;Mas esso era quando you dominaba l mundo&lt;br /&gt;Oooooh Oooooh Oooooh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Viva la Vida, ColdPlay]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to rule the world&lt;br /&gt;Seas would rise when I gave the word&lt;br /&gt;Now in the morning I sweep alone&lt;br /&gt;Sweep the streets I used to own&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to roll the dice&lt;br /&gt;Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes&lt;br /&gt;Listen as the crowd would sing:&lt;br /&gt;"Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One minute I held the key&lt;br /&gt;Next the walls were closed on me&lt;br /&gt;And I discovered that my castles stand&lt;br /&gt;Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear Jerusalem bells a ringing&lt;br /&gt;Roman Cavalry choirs are singing&lt;br /&gt;Be my mirror my sword and shield&lt;br /&gt;My missionaries in a foreign field&lt;br /&gt;For some reason I can't explain&lt;br /&gt;Once you go there was never, never an honest word&lt;br /&gt;That was when I ruled the world&lt;br /&gt;(Ohhh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the wicked and wild wind&lt;br /&gt;Blew down the doors to let me in&lt;br /&gt;Shattered windows and the sound of drums&lt;br /&gt;People couldn't believe what I'd become&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Revolutionaries wait&lt;br /&gt;For my head on a silver plate&lt;br /&gt;Just a puppet on a lonely string&lt;br /&gt;Oh who would ever want to be king?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear Jerusalem bells a ringing&lt;br /&gt;Roman Cavalry choirs are singing&lt;br /&gt;Be my mirror my sword and shield&lt;br /&gt;My missionaries in a foreign field&lt;br /&gt;For some reason I can't explain&lt;br /&gt;I know Saint Peter will call my name&lt;br /&gt;Never an honest word&lt;br /&gt;But that was when I ruled the world&lt;br /&gt;(Ohhhhh Ohhh Ohhh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear Jerusalem bells a ringing&lt;br /&gt;Roman Cavalry choirs are singing&lt;br /&gt;Be my mirror my sword and shield&lt;br /&gt;My missionaries in a foreign field&lt;br /&gt;For some reason I can't explain&lt;br /&gt;I know Saint Peter will call my name&lt;br /&gt;Never an honest word&lt;br /&gt;But that was when I ruled the world&lt;br /&gt;Oooooh Oooooh Oooooh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-117428424262215043?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/117428424262215043/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=117428424262215043' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/117428424262215043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/117428424262215043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/09/biba-la-bida.html' title='Biba la Bida'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-7374639386188038614</id><published>2008-09-19T08:43:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T19:24:42.118Z</updated><title type='text'>Sendinés</title><content type='html'>I tu Sendinés? Hoije inda nun ye l tou die?&lt;br /&gt;Inda naide se squeciu de ti, que pa ua pessona se squecir ten purmeiro que se lembrar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Assi i cumo an todo an la bida tenes que te adatar, subrebibir i manginar. &lt;br /&gt;Bacatela pa esso. &lt;br /&gt;Tenes mais fuorça que un Lion, sós Sendinés...lembras-te?&lt;br /&gt;Aqueilha léngua de l pobo que de ua agulha faç trés, de un çapato faç quatro i arregunha cumo un gato. &lt;br /&gt;Mas ende te deixórun, zamparada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se l todo staba a caer an zuso, agora tocou-te a ti. &lt;br /&gt;Yá nun sós la bandeira de la mala rés. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tanta luita pa que la defrencia seia respeitada, seia apoiada quando se ancontra an bies de çtinçon. I apuis que la defrencia, la sue defrencia ampeçou a ser respeitada nun te ligórun. Achórun que era defrente. Pa l melhor, pa l pior nun sós cumo tu armana. Armana? Quieren bós juntar i fazer de cunta que sodes ua. Anton al menos respeite-se quien bumbeia l sangre que dá bida a essa cousa réles.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se bien calha stan a ser malos...falta saber quien te bai a ajudar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-7374639386188038614?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/7374639386188038614/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=7374639386188038614' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/7374639386188038614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/7374639386188038614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/09/sendins.html' title='Sendinés'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-3175240250305702816</id><published>2008-09-18T07:34:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T07:55:34.469+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Nun zistas</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="http://www.seeqpod.com/cache/seeqpodSlimlineEmbed.swf" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="80" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="domain=http://www.seeqpod.com&amp;playlistXMLPath=http://www.seeqpod.com/api/music/getPlaylist?playlist_id=b2c77dbaab"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nun zistas&lt;br /&gt;Ye solo l peso de l mundo&lt;br /&gt;Quando l tou coraçon fur pesado&lt;br /&gt;You bou a albanta-lo por ti&lt;br /&gt;Nun zistas&lt;br /&gt;Porque quieres ser oubido&lt;br /&gt;Se l seléncio te sigura &lt;br /&gt;You bou a scacha-lo para ti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To l mundo quier que l antendan &lt;br /&gt;Pus you oubo-te&lt;br /&gt;To l mundo quier que l ámen &lt;br /&gt;Nun zistas&lt;br /&gt;Pus sós amado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nun zistas&lt;br /&gt;Ye solo l sofrimiento &lt;br /&gt;que scundes &lt;br /&gt;Quando stás zourientado &lt;br /&gt;You alhá starei pa te achar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nun zistas&lt;br /&gt;Porque quieres relumbrar&lt;br /&gt;Se la scuridon te ciega&lt;br /&gt;You bou a relumbrar pa te cunduzir &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu sós amado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nun zistas&lt;br /&gt;Ye solo l peso de l mundo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nun zistas&lt;br /&gt;Todo mundo percisa que l scuiten &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu sós amado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You Are Loved (Don't Give Up)Josh Groban&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Anglés]&lt;br /&gt;Don’t give up&lt;br /&gt;It’s just the weight of the world&lt;br /&gt;When your heart’s heavy, I&lt;br /&gt;I will lift it for you&lt;br /&gt;Don’t give up&lt;br /&gt;Because you want to be heard&lt;br /&gt;If silence keeps you, I&lt;br /&gt;I will break it for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody wants to be understood&lt;br /&gt;Well I can hear you&lt;br /&gt;Everybody wants to be loved&lt;br /&gt;Don’t give up&lt;br /&gt;Because you are loved&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t give up&lt;br /&gt;It’s just the hurt&lt;br /&gt;That you hide&lt;br /&gt;When you’re lost inside, I&lt;br /&gt;I’ll be there to find you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t give up&lt;br /&gt;Because you want to burn bright&lt;br /&gt;If darkness blinds you I&lt;br /&gt;I will shine to guide you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are loved&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t give up&lt;br /&gt;It's just the weight of the world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't give up&lt;br /&gt;Everyone needs to be heard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are loved&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-3175240250305702816?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/3175240250305702816/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=3175240250305702816' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/3175240250305702816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/3175240250305702816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/09/nun-zistas.html' title='Nun zistas'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-3592623750097573296</id><published>2008-09-03T13:23:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T19:25:13.789Z</updated><title type='text'>I L Sprito</title><content type='html'>You querie que el fusse miu amigo mas el querie que you fusse un home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-3592623750097573296?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/3592623750097573296/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=3592623750097573296' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/3592623750097573296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/3592623750097573296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-l-sprito.html' title='I L Sprito'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-4075336678772201715</id><published>2008-08-23T03:48:00.012+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T07:57:46.687+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='giente de la mie tierra mariza Gente da minha terra mirandés Sendim'/><title type='text'>Giente de la mie tierra</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="http://www.seeqpod.com/cache/seeqpodSlimlineEmbed.swf" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="80" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="domain=http://www.seeqpod.com&amp;playlistXMLPath=http://www.seeqpod.com/api/music/getPlaylist?playlist_id=a3624a479b"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Giente de la mie tierra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ye miu i buosso este fado&lt;br /&gt;Çtino que mos amarra&lt;br /&gt;Por mais que seia negado&lt;br /&gt;A las cuordas de ua guitarra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Siempre que se oube l gemido&lt;br /&gt;De ua guitarra a cantar&lt;br /&gt;Queda-se lougo perdido&lt;br /&gt;Cun ganas de chorar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh giente de la mie tierra&lt;br /&gt;Agora ye que you antendi&lt;br /&gt;Esta tristeza que trago&lt;br /&gt;Fui de bós que la recebi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I parecerie ternura&lt;br /&gt;Se you me deixasse arrolhar&lt;br /&gt;Era maior la amargura&lt;br /&gt;Menos triste l miu cantar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traduçon de "Gente Da Minha Terra", de Mariza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pertués: &lt;br /&gt;Ó Gente Da Minha Terra &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É meu e vosso este fado&lt;br /&gt;Destino que nos amarra&lt;br /&gt;Por mais que seja negado&lt;br /&gt;Às cordas de uma guitarra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sempre que se ouve o gemido&lt;br /&gt;De uma guitarra a cantar&lt;br /&gt;Fica-se logo perdido&lt;br /&gt;Com vontade de chorar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ó gente da minha terra&lt;br /&gt;Agora é que eu percebi&lt;br /&gt;Esta tristeza que trago&lt;br /&gt;Foi de vós que a recebi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E pareceria ternura&lt;br /&gt;Se eu me deixasse embalar&lt;br /&gt;Era maior a amargura&lt;br /&gt;Menos triste o meu cantar&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-4075336678772201715?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/4075336678772201715/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=4075336678772201715' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/4075336678772201715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/4075336678772201715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/08/hoo-giente-de-la-mie-tierra.html' title='Giente de la mie tierra'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-3927623247047943740</id><published>2008-07-28T11:54:00.010+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T08:02:09.388+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='braveheart mirandés traduçon'/><title type='text'>La nuossa liberdade</title><content type='html'>William Wallace: Si, luitais i podeis murrir. Correi, i bibireis ... al menos por un rato.&lt;br /&gt;I al morrer an las buossas camas, muitos anhos apuis de agora, stareis cun buntade de trocar TODOS ls dies, zde este die até esso, por ua ouportunidade, solo ua ouportunidade, de bolber eiqui i dezir als buossos einemigos que eilhes puoden quitar-mos las nuossas bidas, mas eilhes nunca ban a quitar la ... NUOSSA LIBERDADE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traduçon de ua fala de l filme Braveheart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anglés:&lt;br /&gt;William Wallace: Aye, fight and you may die. Run, and you'll live... at least a while. And dying in your beds, many years from now, would you be willin' to trade ALL the days, from this day to that, for one chance, just one chance, to come back here and tell our enemies that they may take our lives, but they'll never take... OUR FREEDOM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-3927623247047943740?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/3927623247047943740/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=3927623247047943740' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/3927623247047943740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/3927623247047943740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/07/william-wallace-si-luitais-i-puodeis.html' title='La nuossa liberdade'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-775201093774629533</id><published>2008-07-27T23:49:00.009+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T08:01:11.439+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mirandés eimigrantes cuntas'/><title type='text'>Chegórun</title><content type='html'>Chegórun onte i l armano de miu tio, Juan Grabiel foi alhá pa ls ber.&lt;br /&gt;La cumbersa era an Sendinés antremeada ralas bezes por Francés quando ls eimigrantes, que son mius becinos solo un cachico de l anho, nun achában las palabras ciertas.&lt;br /&gt;Miu abó Perç yá alhá staba i cuntaba que yá tenie setienta i seis anhos.&lt;br /&gt;-Eilhes andan bien legeiros, ls de l lar. Bien apeçonados i ban a la missa bien bestidos. Tengo que you ir para alhá tamien. Brincaba el.&lt;br /&gt;Cuntou el, inda ne l tiempo de padre Chico, tiu Panelas bia ir muita pessona a quemer la hóstia i dezie cuitada de la armana de l Padre que se farta de fazer sartianadas de hóstias. &lt;br /&gt;Apuis Juan Gabriel cuntaba tamien las sues abinturas, que un anho passa debrebe mas siempre hai que cuntar. De ls ninos que naceran nun se falou, cumoquiera porque nun serien muitos, mas de ls que yá zarpáran, mesmo yá muortos, inda se falou deilhes. &lt;br /&gt;Uii tiu Horácio, aich... Uii l outro mira aquel murriu-se de pie a falar, dou-le un ataque i quedou-se.&lt;br /&gt;Berdade seia dita, tamien hai que lembra-los.&lt;br /&gt;-À Manél bibes ua pinga? &lt;br /&gt;I el sin fazer muito caso cuntinou a falar de cumo ancuntrou auga ne l huorto i nun era ciedo nin era tarde para abrir ua sanja. Se la auga stá a trenta metros nin que steia mais fonda spurmenta-se. Se el andou alhá cun un palo berde i albantaba-se, ye porque hai algo. Ye la angenharie antiga i puode ser que seia mais certeira que las modernices que por ende andan.&lt;br /&gt;-À Manél quieres auga ó ua pinga? &lt;br /&gt;Desta beç lougo respundiu: Auga bibe-la tu (la sanja yá staba un cachico abierta i yá manou ua pouca d'auga, apuis que yá le chegaba).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tiu Manél Grabiel, home que le chaman Juan Grabiel, inda dixe que tenie feito à pouco ua sestia i inda tenie "suonHo". You cun atento a ber se acaçaba palabras que nin maginaba, quedei a pensar se el querie dezir an Pertués "sono" ó "sonho"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-775201093774629533?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/775201093774629533/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=775201093774629533' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/775201093774629533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/775201093774629533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/07/chegrun.html' title='Chegórun'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-7936380731386599702</id><published>2008-07-25T17:53:00.016+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T12:34:37.323Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sendim regresso retrato'/><title type='text'>L torron mais doce de l miu mundo</title><content type='html'>Bou me a dar un saltico a Sendin. Yá hai bien tiempo que nun iba alhá. Até ls mius amigos yá dízen que nun sou bun Sendinés. Eilhes inda que steian mais loinge fúrun mais spiessas bezes que you. L de ser malo Sendinés nun puode ser berdade, mas que nunca passei ua tiemporada tan grande loinge de l miu torron ye berdade. Apuis de tanta mendungar bai a ser un regalo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deixo un retrato de l miu mundo bisto por uns uolhos defrentes. A modo que an anfraburmeilhos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OwW8hXo2_cA/SIoOY6w7d9I/AAAAAAAAADw/BH1MzX05JGE/s1600-h/SendimInfrared.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OwW8hXo2_cA/SIoOY6w7d9I/AAAAAAAAADw/BH1MzX05JGE/s400/SendimInfrared.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227006138771011538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Até lougo,&lt;br /&gt;25 de Júlio de 2008.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-7936380731386599702?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/7936380731386599702/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=7936380731386599702' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/7936380731386599702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/7936380731386599702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/07/l-torron-mais-doce-de-l-miu-mundo.html' title='L torron mais doce de l miu mundo'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OwW8hXo2_cA/SIoOY6w7d9I/AAAAAAAAADw/BH1MzX05JGE/s72-c/SendimInfrared.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-5205931511338020096</id><published>2008-07-25T03:31:00.010+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T08:03:22.301+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='musica Kansas Scorpions Mirandés traduçon'/><title type='text'>Puolo ne l biento</title><content type='html'>You ancerro ls mius uolhos, solo por un sfergante, i l sfergante scapou&lt;br /&gt;Todos ls mius suonhos, passan alantre de ls mius uolhos, ua curjidade&lt;br /&gt;Puolo ne l biento, todos eilhes son ye puolo ne l biento.&lt;br /&gt;Siempre la mesma cantiga, solo ua pinga d'auga ne l antremináble mar&lt;br /&gt;To l que fazemos, apodrece ne l suolo, inda que nun queiramos ber.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puolo ne l biento, to l que somos ye puolo ne l biento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Agora] Nun zlhigues, nada dura para siempre a nun ser la tierra i l cielo&lt;br /&gt;El scapa, i to l denheiro nin mais un minuto compra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puolo ne l biento, to l que somos ye puolo ne l biento.&lt;br /&gt;Puolo ne l biento, to ye puolo ne l biento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Traduçon de Dust in Wind de ls Kansas(you peç que gusto mais de la Berson de ls Scorpions que stá ne l tocadeiro ambaixo)]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I close my eyes, only for a moment, and the moment's gone&lt;br /&gt;All my dreams, pass before my eyes, a curiosity&lt;br /&gt;Dust in the wind, all they are is dust in the wind.&lt;br /&gt;Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea&lt;br /&gt;All we do, crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Now] Don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky&lt;br /&gt;It slips away, and all your money won't another minute buy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind&lt;br /&gt;Dust in the wind, everything is dust in the wind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.seeqpod.net/cache/seeqpodSlimlineEmbed.swf" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="80" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="domain=http://www.seeqpod.com&amp;playlistXMLPath=http://www.seeqpod.com/api/music/getPlaylist?playlist_id=bc4b9b85e7"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-5205931511338020096?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/5205931511338020096/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=5205931511338020096' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/5205931511338020096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/5205931511338020096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/07/puolo-ne-l-biento.html' title='Puolo ne l biento'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-5944773412667774814</id><published>2008-07-24T09:02:00.018+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T08:05:03.747+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tiempo mirandés nino'/><title type='text'>Tiempo</title><content type='html'>Se l tiempo preguntou al tiempo quanto tiempo l tiempo ten, ye capaç que l tiempo tenga quedado cunfundido i se botou a correr cumo un camboio cun ua bulina einemangináble. &lt;br /&gt;You hai bien pouco tiempo tenie dezuito anhos. Tengo agora anton binte i quatro!? Trasdontonte nun tenie dieç?&lt;br /&gt;Pus bien me lembro you de l garotico que iba a la scuola i solo gustaba de joldra. L rapaç que an la scuola lebou cun l bardeiro de la porsora i nun querie boltar alhá. Cumo se puode apuis de dar ua buona cacetada ne l lombo dezir que anton se gusta de aluno? Un cacho de mie çcunfiou(que poucas reguadas lebei)! Pronto berdade seia dezida nun me fintei neilha mas que remédio tube se nó bolber. &lt;br /&gt;Lembra-me l rapazico que a las tardes fazie ls deberes mui debrebe para scapar. L rapaç que nun quedaba cuntento quando perdie a jogar a la bola i se querie scapar(i lebar la bola cun el) anrabiado. &lt;br /&gt;Era melhor esso que benir l duonho de l lameiro al pé de l Café, ampeçar a renher i roubar-mos la bola. Chegaba bien poner uas pedricas i jogar ne l alcatron que assi nun mos rouban.&lt;br /&gt;Hai quien diga que quier ser para siempre nuobo, you d'atrás solo querie crecer i nun antendie las pessonas que querien l cuntrário.&lt;br /&gt;Por muita cousa, ua deilhas an la pouca cuncéncia que se ten era poder cunduzir sin ser  a las scundidas de la guardia.&lt;br /&gt;Mas l mundo dá buoltas i buoltas i ls sfergantes solo ls acaçamos cun la memória. Anquanto assi fur puode ser que inda seiamos al menos un cachico mais nuobo cumo quien quier sentir l mundo de to las maneiras possibles, sin se lembrar que l feturo stá alhi al birar la squina i lougo lougo mos bai a acaçar l passo.&lt;br /&gt;Quanto tiempo lieba l tiempo a dar un bolco cumo ua campana? &lt;br /&gt;Quanto tiempo este feturo lebou a tornar-se an passado?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-5944773412667774814?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/5944773412667774814/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=5944773412667774814' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/5944773412667774814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/5944773412667774814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/07/tiempo.html' title='Tiempo'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-5320152955306196491</id><published>2008-07-22T08:07:00.009+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T08:07:41.726+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Manowar mirandés &quot;heart of steel&quot;'/><title type='text'>Coraçon de fierro</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="http://www.seeqpod.com/cache/seeqpodSlimlineEmbed.swf" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="80" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="domain=http://www.seeqpod.com&amp;playlistXMLPath=http://www.seeqpod.com/api/music/getPlaylist?playlist_id=45b2a7e96f"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faç un fuogo de mil milhas de lunjura&lt;br /&gt;Para dar luç a la mie larga caminada para casa&lt;br /&gt;You biajo anriba dun cometa&lt;br /&gt;L miu rastro chega para quedar&lt;br /&gt;L silenço ye una piedra pesada&lt;br /&gt;You luito l mundo i quito todo l que eilhes puoden dar&lt;br /&gt;Hai bezes que l miu coraçon queda çpindurado&lt;br /&gt;Nacido para andar acontra la bentanie&lt;br /&gt;Nacido para oubir l miu nome&lt;br /&gt;Nun amporta adonde stou, stou solo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ampon-te i luita&lt;br /&gt;Bibe pul tou coraçon&lt;br /&gt;Siempre mais ua tantatiba&lt;br /&gt;You nun tengo miedo de murrir&lt;br /&gt;Ampon-te i luita&lt;br /&gt;Diç l que sientes&lt;br /&gt;Nacido cun l coraçon de fierro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bota fuogo a la punte atrás de ti&lt;br /&gt;Nun deixes retiro&lt;br /&gt;Solo hai un camino para casa&lt;br /&gt;Aqueilhes que fázen caçuada i anchen l camino&lt;br /&gt;I cortan las goelas uns als outros&lt;br /&gt;Ban a caer cumo la niebe se derriete&lt;br /&gt;Ban a bermos a crecer cun fuogo ne ls nuossos uolhos&lt;br /&gt;Ban a abaixar las cabeças&lt;br /&gt;Ls sous coraçones ban a quedar çpindurados&lt;br /&gt;Nós mos bamos a rir i eilhes ban a poner-se de zinolhos&lt;br /&gt;I saberan que este coraçon de fierro era&lt;br /&gt;Mui defícele de scachar&lt;br /&gt;Mui defícele de l usar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ampon-te i luita&lt;br /&gt;Bibe pul tou coraçon&lt;br /&gt;Siempre mais ua tantatiba&lt;br /&gt;You nun tengo miedo de murrir&lt;br /&gt;Ampon-te i luita&lt;br /&gt;Diç l que sientes&lt;br /&gt;Nacido cun l coraçon de fierro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[La música Heart Of Steel de ls Manowar]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouriginal: &lt;br /&gt;Build a fire a thousand miles away&lt;br /&gt;To light my long way home&lt;br /&gt;I ride a comet&lt;br /&gt;My trail is long to stay&lt;br /&gt;Silence is a heavy stone&lt;br /&gt;I fight the world and take all they can give&lt;br /&gt;There are times my heart hangs low&lt;br /&gt;Born to walk against the wind&lt;br /&gt;Born to hear my name&lt;br /&gt;No matter where I stand Im alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stand and fight&lt;br /&gt;Live by your heart&lt;br /&gt;Always one more try&lt;br /&gt;Im not afraid to die&lt;br /&gt;Stand and fight&lt;br /&gt;Say what you feel&lt;br /&gt;Born with a heart of steel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Burn the bridge behind you&lt;br /&gt;Leave no retreat&lt;br /&gt;Theres only one way home&lt;br /&gt;Those who laugh and crowd the path&lt;br /&gt;And cut each others throats&lt;br /&gt;Will fall like melting snow&lt;br /&gt;Theyll watch us rise with fire in our eyes&lt;br /&gt;Theyll bow their heads&lt;br /&gt;Their hearts will hang low&lt;br /&gt;Then well laugh and they will kneel&lt;br /&gt;And know this heart of steel was&lt;br /&gt;Too hard to break&lt;br /&gt;Too hard to hold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stand and fight&lt;br /&gt;Live by your heart&lt;br /&gt;Always one more try&lt;br /&gt;Im not afraid to die&lt;br /&gt;Stand and fight&lt;br /&gt;Say what you feel&lt;br /&gt;Born with a heart of steel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-5320152955306196491?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/5320152955306196491/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=5320152955306196491' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/5320152955306196491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/5320152955306196491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/07/queda-i-luta.html' title='Coraçon de fierro'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-2038636135624873908</id><published>2008-07-19T11:39:00.012+01:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T12:14:38.842+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='galandum galundaina mirandés'/><title type='text'>Chin Glin Din</title><content type='html'>Indo you pa la mie arada&lt;br /&gt;atrás de las mies chabacas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cun l chin-dilin-glin-dina&lt;br /&gt;cun l chin-dilin-glan-daba&lt;br /&gt;cun l chin-dilin-glin-dina&lt;br /&gt;se me olbidou la guelhada...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You birei atrás pur eilha&lt;br /&gt;i achei la puorta cerrada...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Refron)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que ye aqueilho mulhier&lt;br /&gt;que sta debaixo de la nuossa cama...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Refron)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ye l gato de l cumbento &lt;br /&gt;que ben pa la nuossa gata...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Refron)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trai la scupeta mulhier&lt;br /&gt;que l hei-de dar ua scupetada...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Refron)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nun hagas esso marido&lt;br /&gt;que çcunjuntas la cama...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.seeqpod.net/cache/seeqpodSlimlineEmbed.swf" wmode="transparent" width="300" height="80" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="domain=http://www.seeqpod.com&amp;playlistXMLPath=http://www.seeqpod.com/api/music/getPlaylist?playlist_id=31041ab0df"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-2038636135624873908?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/2038636135624873908/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=2038636135624873908' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/2038636135624873908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/2038636135624873908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/07/indo-you-pa-la-mie-arada-atrs-de-las.html' title='Chin Glin Din'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-3968346360245145905</id><published>2008-07-19T09:21:00.009+01:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T10:14:53.478+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mirandés música dulce pontes titioni'/><title type='text'>Tirioni</title><content type='html'>Cardai cardicas cardai&lt;br /&gt;la lhana pa ls cobertores,&lt;br /&gt;que las pulgas stan prenhadas,&lt;br /&gt;ban a parir cardadores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tirioni tioni tioni&lt;br /&gt;tirioni tioni tiono&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La moda de l Tirioni&lt;br /&gt;quien le habie d'aumentar?&lt;br /&gt;Un burro dun cardador&lt;br /&gt;que la trouxo pa l lhugar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L lhugar de Dues Eigreijas&lt;br /&gt;ten ua piedra burmeilha&lt;br /&gt;adonde se sentan ls moços&lt;br /&gt;a peinar a la guedeilha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L lhugar de Dues Eigreijas&lt;br /&gt;ten ua piedra redonda&lt;br /&gt;adonde se sentan los moços&lt;br /&gt;quando benan de la ronda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outor (Lhetra): Tradecional Mirandés&lt;br /&gt;Cumpositor (Música): Tradecional Mirandés / Arranjo: Dulce Pontes,António Pinheiro da Silva i Albert Boekholt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/M_pB7I7x6I0&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/M_pB7I7x6I0&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-3968346360245145905?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/3968346360245145905/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=3968346360245145905' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/3968346360245145905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/3968346360245145905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/07/tirioni.html' title='Tirioni'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-5175714021113383369</id><published>2008-07-19T03:12:00.013+01:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T09:37:58.042+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='manos mirandés'/><title type='text'>Las manos de quien sabe</title><content type='html'>Las manos ásparas, las unhas ancardidas. Nun ténen calhos, las mesmas manos son solo por eilhas un gran calho. Naide cuida que la bida ye fácele. Puis nun ye el la eiceçon.&lt;br /&gt;    Muita beç ls dedos angarabatados acunchegaran las tejeiras de podar. Muita beç ua mano acaçou  las ubas, anquanto la outra mano seguraba ua Palaçoulica.&lt;br /&gt;    La cepa staba cargada, quando por fin la acababa ri-se cun ua risica de quien se anganha a el mesmo i pensa: Assi si, assi si bal la pena.&lt;br /&gt;    Las patatas, scabicadas pul sacho menos eirrigular que la mesma mano que le dá un cachico de bida.&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;Mas al menos stá gordo, bien cebado; cumo ua fouce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-5175714021113383369?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/5175714021113383369/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=5175714021113383369' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/5175714021113383369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/5175714021113383369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/07/las-manos-de-quien-sabe.html' title='Las manos de quien sabe'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3993974514644967326.post-3831357174790461377</id><published>2008-07-17T04:46:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T04:31:22.700+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nick Drake Mirandés'/><title type='text'>Purmeiro</title><content type='html'>You poderie tener sido marenheiro, poderie tener sido cozenheiro.&lt;br /&gt;Un berdadeiro amante bibo, poderie tener sido un libro.&lt;br /&gt;You poderie tener sido ua tabuleta, poderie tener sido un reloijo.&lt;br /&gt;Tan sencielho cumo un tacho, rijo cumo ua peinha.&lt;br /&gt;You poderie ser&lt;br /&gt;Eiqui i agora&lt;br /&gt;You serie, you debie ser&lt;br /&gt;Mas cumo?&lt;br /&gt;You poderie tener sido&lt;br /&gt;Ua dessas cousas purmeiro&lt;br /&gt;You poderia tener sido&lt;br /&gt;Ua dessas cousas purmeiro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You poderie tener sido l tou pilar, poderie tener sido tue puorta&lt;br /&gt;You poderie tener quedado al sou lado, poderie tener quedado por mais.&lt;br /&gt;Poderie tener sido la tue státua, poderie tener  sido tou amigo,&lt;br /&gt;Toda ua bida cumprida poderie tener sido l fin.&lt;br /&gt;You poderie ser tou tan berdade&lt;br /&gt;You serie, you deberie ser atrabés i atrabés&lt;br /&gt;You poderie tener sido&lt;br /&gt;Ua dessas cousas purmeiro&lt;br /&gt;You poderie tener sido&lt;br /&gt;Ua dessas cousas purmeiro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You poderie tener sido un silbote, poderie tener sido ua fraita&lt;br /&gt;Un berdadeiro dador bibo, poderie tener sido ua bota.&lt;br /&gt;You poderie tener sido ua tabuleta, poderie tener sido un reloijo&lt;br /&gt;Tan sencielho cumo un tacho, rijo cumo ua peinha.&lt;br /&gt;You poderie ser anté mesmo eiqui&lt;br /&gt;You serie, you deberie star tan acerca&lt;br /&gt;You poderie tener sido&lt;br /&gt;Ua dessas cousas purmeiro&lt;br /&gt;You poderie tener sido&lt;br /&gt;Ua dessas cousas purmeiro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Nick Drake,  I could have been One of these things first]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouriginal :&lt;br /&gt;I could have been a sailor, could have been a cook&lt;br /&gt;A real live lover, could have been a book.&lt;br /&gt;I could have been a signpost, could have been a clock&lt;br /&gt;As simple as a kettle, steady as a rock.&lt;br /&gt;I could be&lt;br /&gt;Here and now&lt;br /&gt;I would be, I should be&lt;br /&gt;But how?&lt;br /&gt;I could have been&lt;br /&gt;One of these things first&lt;br /&gt;I could have been&lt;br /&gt;One of these things first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could have been your pillar, could have been your door&lt;br /&gt;I could have stayed beside you, could have stayed for more.&lt;br /&gt;Could have been your statue, could have been your friend,&lt;br /&gt;A whole long lifetime could have been the end.&lt;br /&gt;I could be yours so true&lt;br /&gt;I would be, I should be through and through&lt;br /&gt;I could have been&lt;br /&gt;One of these things first&lt;br /&gt;I could have been&lt;br /&gt;One of these things first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could have been a whistle, could have been a flute&lt;br /&gt;A real live giver, could have been a boot.&lt;br /&gt;I could have been a signpost, could have been a clock&lt;br /&gt;As simple as a kettle, steady as a rock.&lt;br /&gt;I could be even here&lt;br /&gt;I would be, I should be so near&lt;br /&gt;I could have been&lt;br /&gt;One of these things first&lt;br /&gt;I could have been&lt;br /&gt;One of these things first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14px; color:#777777;font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este testo stá screbido cun l- an ampeço de palabra, a la moda de l Mirandés de Sendin, cunsante la 1ª Adenda a la Cumbençon Ourtográfica de la Lhéngua Mirandesa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3993974514644967326-3831357174790461377?l=assomadeiro.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/feeds/3831357174790461377/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3993974514644967326&amp;postID=3831357174790461377' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/3831357174790461377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3993974514644967326/posts/default/3831357174790461377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://assomadeiro.blogspot.com/2008/07/purmeiro.html' title='Purmeiro'/><author><name>Scalhabrés</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
