thegoodfellas/blogset-br huggingface dataset:
Recollections of the Arabian NightsRecollections of the Arabian NightsBy Alfred, Lord Tennyson 18091892 Alfred, Lord Tennyson When the breeze of a joyful dawn blew free In the silken sail of infancy, The tide of time flow'd back with me, The forward-flowing tide of time; And many a sheeny summer-morn, Adown the Tigris I was borne, By Bagdat's shrines of fretted gold, High-walled gardens green and old; True Mussulman was I and sworn, For it was in the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid. Anight my shallop, rustling thro' The low and bloomed foliage, drove The fragrant, glistening deeps, and clove The citron-shadows in the blue: By garden porches on the brim, The costly doors flung open wide, Gold glittering thro' lamplight dim, And broider'd sofas on each side: In sooth it was a goodly time, For it was in the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid. Often, where clear-stemm'd platans guard The outlet, did I turn away The boat-head down a broad canal From the main river sluiced, where all The sloping of the moon-lit sward Was damask-work, and deep inlay Of braided blooms unmown, which crept Adown to where the water slept. A goodly place, a goodly time, For it was in the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid. A motion from the river won Ridged the smooth level, bearing on My shallop thro' the star-strown calm, Until another night in night I enter'd, from the clearer light, Imbower'd vaults of pillar'd palm, Imprisoning sweets, which, as they clomb Heavenward, were stay'd beneath the dome Of hollow boughs.A goodly time, For it was in the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid. Still onward; and the clear canal Is rounded to as clear a lake. From the green rivage many a fall Of diamond rillets musical, Thro' little crystal arches low Down from the central fountain's flow Fall'n silver-chiming, seem'd to shake The sparkling flints beneath the prow. A goodly place, a goodly time, For it was in the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid. Above thro' many a bowery turn A walk with vary-colour'd shells Wander'd engrain'd. On either side All round about the fragrant marge From fluted vase, and brazen urn In order, eastern flowers large, Some dropping low their crimson bells Half-closed, and others studded wide With disks and tiars, fed the time With odour in the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid. Far off, and where the lemon-grove In closest coverture upsprung, The living airs of middle night Died round the bulbul as he sung; Not he: but something which possess'd The darkness of the world, delight, Life, anguish, death, immortal love, Ceasing not, mingled, unrepress'd, Apart from place, withholding time, But flattering the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid. Black the garden-bowers and grots Slumber'd: the solemn palms were ranged Above, unwoo'd of summer wind: A sudden splendour from behind Flush'd all the leaves with rich gold-green, And, flowing rapidly between Their interspaces, counterchanged The level lake with diamond-plots Of dark and bright. A lovely time, For it was in the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid.
Dark-blue the deep sphere overhead, Distinct with vivid stars inlaid, Grew darker from that under-flame: So, leaping lightly from the boat, With silver anchor left afloat, In marvel whence that glory came Upon me, as in sleep I sank In cool soft turf upon the bank, Entranced with that place and time, So worthy of the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid. Thence thro' the garden I was drawn A realm of pleasance, many a mound, And many a shadow-chequer'd lawn Full of the city's stilly sound, And deep myrrh-thickets blowing round The stately cedar, tamarisks, Thick rosaries of scented thorn, Tall orient shrubs, and obelisks Graven with emblems of the time, In honour of the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid. With dazed vision unawares From the long alley's latticed shade Emerged, I came upon the great Pavilion of the Caliphat. Right to the carven cedarn doors, Flung inward over spangled floors, Broad-based flights of marble stairs Ran up with golden balustrade, After the fashion of the time, And humour of the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid. The fourscore windows all alight As with the quintessence of flame, A million tapers flaring bright From twisted silvers look'd to shame The hollow-vaulted dark, and stream'd Upon the mooned domes aloof In inmost Bagdat, till there seem'd Hundreds of crescents on the roof Of night new-risen, that marvellous time, To celebrate the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid. Then stole I up, and trancedly Gazed on the Persian girl alone, Serene with argent-lidded eyes Amorous, and lashes like to rays Of darkness, and a brow of pearl Tressed with redolent ebony, In many a dark delicious curl, Flowing beneath her rose-hued zone; The sweetest lady of the time, Well worthy of the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid. Six columns, three on either side, Pure silver, underpropt a rich Throne of the massive ore, from which Down-droop'd, in many a floating fold, Engarlanded and diaper'd With inwrought flowers, a cloth of gold. Thereon, his deep eye laughter-stirr'd With merriment of kingly pride, Sole star of all that place and time, I saw himin his golden prime, THE GOOD HAROUN ALRASCHID! Asie 1. Asia CLICK to Listen on YouTubeAsie, Asie. Asie! Vieux pays merveilleux des contes de nourrice Ou dort la fantaisie comme une imperatrice En sa foret emplie de mystere. Asie, je voudrais m'en aller avec la goelette Qui se berce ce soir dans le port, Mysterieuse et solitaire, Et qui deploie enfin ses voiles violettes Comme un immense oiseau de nuit dans le ciel d'or.Je voudrais m'en aller vers des iles de fleurs En ecoutant chanter la mer perverse Sur un vieux rythme ensorceleur. Je voudrais voir Damas et les villes de Perse Avec les minarets legers dans l'air. Je voudrais voir de beaux turbans de soie Sur des visages noirs aux dents claires; Je voudrais voir des yeux sombres d'amour Et des prunelles brillantes de joie En des peaux jaunes comme des oranges; Je voudrais voir des vetements de velours Et des habits a longues franges. Je voudrais voir des
calumets entre des bouchesTout entourees de barbe blanche; Je voudrais voir d'apres marchands aux regards louches,Et des cadis, et des vizirs Qui du seul mouvement de leur doigt qui se penche Accordent vie ou mort au gre de leur desir.Je voudrais voir la Perse, et l'Inde, et puis la Chine, Les mandarins ventrus sous les ombrelles, Et les princesses aux mains fines, Et les lettres qui se querrellent Sur la poesie et sur la beaute; Je voudrais m'attarder au palais enchante Et comme un voyageur etranger Contemple a loisir des paysages peints Sur des etoffes en des cadres de sapin Avec un personnage au milieu d'un verger; Je voudrais voir des assassins souriant Du bourreau qui coupe un cou d'innocent Avec son grand sabre courbe d'Orient. Je voudrais voir des pauvres et des reines; Je voudrais voir des roses et du sang; Je voudrais voir mourir d'amour ou bien de haine. Et puis m'en revenir plus tard Narrer mon aventure aux curieux de reves En elevant comme Sinbad ma vieille tasse arabe De temps en temps jusqu'a mes levres Pour interrompre le conte avec art ... Asia, Asia, Asia! Olden and wondrous land of tales dreamt by nursemaids,Where sleeping fantasy lies like an empress fair In her forest o'erflowing with mystery.Asia ... I should like to set out aboard the sea-bound schoonerWhich is rocking this evening in port, Mysterious and solitary; And which at last unfurls its flutt'ring sails of purple Like an immense night bird aloft in the gold'n sky.I should like to sail off towards islands of flow'rsWhile list'ning to the perverse sea singingIn its old and bewitching rhythm.I'd like to see Damascus, and cities of PersiaWhere light minarets pierce through the air.*I'd like to see those fine turbans of silkOver black faces with white teeth gleaming;I should wish to see eyes shaded with loveFrom which pupils shine brilliantly with joyAgainst complexions as tawny as oranges; I should like to see fine vestments made of velvet And flowing robes with long, long fringes.I'd like to see earthenware pipes stuck into pursed mouths Wholly surrounded by white whiskers; I'd like to see rough-edged merchants cast dirty glances, And the qadis and the viziers, Who with just the mere movement of their crooked fingerCan dispense life or death at their desire's whim. I'd see Persia, and India, then also China:Plump mandarins sitting under umbrellas, And princesses with hands most lithe, And wise scholars who yet are quarr'lingOver poetry and over beauty; I should like to pause in an enchanted palace And, like any foreign traveller, Contemplate at leisure those paintings of landscapes,On finest fabrics in frames crafted out of fir,Picturing someone in the middle of a grove; I'd like to see cruel assassins smile asAn executioner lops a guiltless headWith his big Oriental scimitar.I'd like to see base paupers and grand queens, too; I'd like to see red roses and red blood; I'd like to see death caused by love, or else by hatred.And later then I'll return homeTo share my adventure with curious young dreamers;And I will raise--just like Sinbad--my old
Arabian goblet Up to my lips every now and then,Interrupting the tale for artful effect ... * For a literal translation use: "With light minarets in the air."2. La flute enchantee 2. The Enchanted FluteCLICK to listen: on YouTubeL'ombre est douce et mon maitre dort, Coiffe d'un bonnet conique de soie Et son long nez jaune en sa barbe blanche.Mais moi, je suis eveillee encore Et j'ecoute au dehors Une chanson de flute ou s'epanche Tour a tour la tristesse ou la joie. Un air tour a tour langoureux ou frivole, Que mon amoureux cheri joue.Et quand je m'approche de la croisee Il me semble que chaque note s'envole De la flute vers ma joue Comme un mysterieux baiser.Darkness soothes and my master sleeps,Coiffed in a cone-shaped night-bonnet of silk,With his long nose yellow on his white whiskers.But I, I'm wakened and roused again,And I hear from outdoorsThe lone song of a flute o'erflowingAt first with sorrow but then with such joy!An air turning from languishing to frivolous, Which my own dearest lover plays.And as I move closer to the window, To me it's as though each note has come wingingFrom his flute onto my cheekLike a mysterious caress. 3. L'indifferent 3. The Indifferent OneCLICK to Listen on YouTubeTes yeux sont doux comme ceux d'une fille, Jeune etranger, Et la courbe fine De ton beau visage de duvet ombrage Est plus seduisante encore de ligne. Ta levre chante sur le pas de ma porte Une langue inconnue et charmante Comme une musique fausse ... Entre! Et que mon vin te reconforte ... Mais non, tu passes Et de mon seuil je te vois t'eloigner Me faisant un dernier geste avec grace Et la hanche legerement ployee Par ta demarche feminine et lasse ... Your eyes are soft like those of any maiden,My young stranger,And the delicate curveOf your fine features, shadowed with a silk down,Forms an even more seductive outline.Your lips form a song at the foot of my doorstepIn a tongue incoherent yet charming,Rather like music tuned falsely ...Enter! And let my wine give you refreshment ...But no ... you pass on,And from my threshold I watch you departAs you make a last graceful gesture for me,With a curved hip casually swayingFrom your saunter that's both girlish and languid ... window.jstiming.load.tick('render');
Romeus and Juliet: Lines 1-24There is beyond the Alps, a town of ancient fame,Whose bright renown yet shineth clear: Verona men it name;Built in a happy time, built on a fertile soilMaintained by the heavenly fates, and by the townish toilThe fruitful hills above, the pleasant vales below,The silver stream with channel deep, that thro' the town doth flow,The store of springs that serve for use, and eke for ease,And other more commodities, which profit may and please,--Eke many certain signs of things betid of old,10 To fill the hungry eyes of those that curiously behold,Do make this town to be preferred above the restOf Lombard towns, or at the least, compared with the best.In which while Escalus as prince alone did reign,To reach reward unto the good, to pay the lewd with pain,Alas, I rue to think, an heavy hap befell:Which Boccace scant, not my rude tongue, were able forth to tell.Within my trembling hand, my pen doth shake for fear,And, on my cold amazed head, upright doth stand my hair.But sith she doth command, whose hest I must obey,20 In mourning verse, a woeful chance to tell I will assay.Help, learned Pallas, help, ye Muses with your art,Help, all ye damned fiends to tell of joys returned to smart.Help eke, ye sisters three, my skilless pen t'indite:For you it caused which I, alas, unable am to write."RomeoIf I profane with my unworthiest handThis holy shrine, the gentle sin is this:My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready standTo smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.JulietGood pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,Which mannerly devotion shows in this;For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss." Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene V[31] Romeo and Juliet is sometimes considered to have no unifying theme, save that of young love.[29] Romeo and Juliet have become Come and see, you who are negligent, Montagues and Capulets, Monaldi and Filippeschi: One lot already grieving, the other in fear. Dante, Divine Comedy: Purgatorio, canto VI, ll. 106-8"O brawling love, O loving hate,O any thing of nothing first create!O heavy lightness, serious vanity,Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms,Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health,Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!" Romeo, Act I Scene "Romeo and Juliet" A love-struck Romeo sings the streets a serenadeLaying everybody low with a love song that he made.Finds a streetlight, steps out of the shadeSays something like, "You and me babe, how about it?"Juliet says, "Hey, it's Romeo, you nearly gave me a heart attack!"He's underneath the window, she's singing, "Hey la, my boyfriend's back.You shouldn't come around here singing up to people like that...Anyway, what you gonna do about it?"Juliet, the dice was loaded from the startAnd I bet when you exploded into my heartAnd I forget I forget the movie song.When you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong, Juliet?Come up on different streets, they're both the streets of shame.Both dirty, both mean, yes, in the dream it was just the sameAnd I dreamed your dream
for you and now your dream is real.How can you look at me as if I was just another one of your deals?When you can fall for chains of silver, You can fall for chains of gold,You can fall for pretty strangers And the promises they hold.You promised me everything, you promised me thick and thin, yeah!Now you just say, "Oh Romeo? Yeah, you know I used to have a scene with him".Juliet, when we made love, you used to cry.You said, "I love you like the stars above, I'll love you 'til I die".There's a place for us, you know the movie song.When you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong, Juliet?I can't do the talk, like the talk on TVAnd I can't do a love song, like the way it's meant to be.I can't do everything, but I'll do anything for you.I can't do anything, 'cept be in love with you!And all I do is miss you and the way we used to be.All I do is keep the beat... and bad company.Now all I do is kiss you through the bars of a rhyme,Juliet, I'd do the stars with you any time!Juliet, when we made love you used to cry.You said, "I love you like the stars above, I'll love you 'til I die".There's a place for us, you know the movie song.When you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong, Juliet?And a love-struck Romeo sings a street-suss serenadeLaying everybody low with a lovesong that he madeFinds a convenient streetlight, steps out of the shadeHe says something like, "You and me babe, how about it?"You and me babe, how about it?"Romeo loved JulietJuliet felt the sameWhen he put his arms around herHe said Juliet, baby, you're my flameThou givest fever..." Peggy Lee's rendition of "Fever".
Poem . .. .. ... . , . ...Although I wanted to come closer, I couldnt possibly go closer because the more I come closer, I felt that the more you will drift away from me If I come closer.. If I really do,I feel that you will leave me foreverthats why I couldnt come closerIf youd leave me, Id be left with those pain and loneliness...I didnt think I would be able to handle itSo although I wanted to come closer, I didnt dare to come closerI long to have one moment close to you but you would leave me forever.So I kept the distance between us, as I wanted to be at a place where I will always be able to see you. ... ...... ... .. .. " ..."In my eyes...The saying that you're the only one I see...That, I believe, is a lie...In my eyes, I see many people...But, amidst this group of people,I only search for you. . .There's no such thing as the perfect guy.And there's no such thing as the perfect girl.But only a less than perfect guyAnd a less than perfect girl can makea perfect love.
Poem For Josephine Sizzling hot chocolateand coffee with a dash of liquer.A snowfallwinter in parischocolate chaux en hiverballet slippers hanging fromthe ballet barsa grammophone left playingwhile no ones in the room.See that lady in luxurious white furher coffee colored skin enchanting as she makes her way down the boulevarda leopard in diamondsher voice rouses a nationthe swivel of her hips enchant the world.See that star bursting open into the firmaments?That is JosephineSome say that Josephine Baker's life was "more French than the French." She lived in France for the rest of her life, often touring Europe, and during the height of the Jazz Age was know as the "Jazz Cleopatra." Her flamboyant style and patriotic nature made her an unforgettable phenomenon for the next 50 years. The following is a poem by Josephine Baker written in 1930:At the age of eight I was already working to calm the hunger of my family.I have suffered: hunger, cold. I have a familyThey said I was homely That I danced like an ape Then I was less homely - Cosmetics I was hooted Then I was applauded - the crowd I continued to dance - I loved jazz I continued to sing - I loved sadness; my soul is sick I had an opportunity - Destiny I had a mascot - a panther - Ancestral superstition I made a tour of the world - In third class and in PullmanI am moral They said I was the reverse I do not smoke - I have white teeth I do not drink - I am an American I have a religion I adore children I love flowers I aid the poor - I have suffered much I love the animals - they are the sincerest I sing and dance still - Perseverance I earn much money - I do not love moneyI save my money - for the time when I am no longer an attraction. Eu podia chamar-te patria minha dar-te o mais lindo nome portugues podia dar-te um nome de rainha que este amor e de Pedro por Ines. Mas nao ha forma nao ha verso nao ha leito para este fogo amor para este rio. Como dizer um coracao fora do peito? Meu amor transbordou. E eu sem navio. Gostar de ti e um poema que nao digo que nao ha taca amor para este vinho nao ha guitarra nem cantar de amigo nao ha flor nao ha flor de verde pinho. Nao ha barco nem trigo nao ha trevo nao ha palavras para dizer esta cancao. Gostar de ti e um poema que nao escrevo. Que ha um rio sem leito. E eu sem coracao. Manuel Alegre Abvum D'bashmaiaAbvum D'bashmaiaNetcadash shimochTete malcutach unaNehue tcevianach aicana d'bashimaia af b'arhaHovlan lacma d'suncanan iaomanaUashbocan haubein uahtehin aicana daf quinan shbuocan l'haiabeinUela tahlan l'nesiuna, ela patssan min bixaMetul dilahie malcuta uahaila uateshbucta lahlam,Almin.Yeshua, ( c.06 a.c. - c.30 d.c. ), Belem, Judeia. Nos dias 25 e 26 de maio aconteceu a Conferencia da Familia. Tema: "A Influencia do Lar Cristao no Mundo Conturbado"Pr. Isaias Costa (Igreja
Os jovens da Igreja Batista Biblica Betel apresentaram durante a programacao de aniversario da igreja uma peca intitulada "Santidade" A Feirinha dos Denarios foi uma iniciativa do departamento infantil da Igreja Batista Biblica Betel para estimular a participacao das criancas na EBD, as criancas recebem denarios, que podem ser trocados por brinquedos ou doces na Feirinha dos Denarios Igreja Batista Betel 41 anos servindo a o Senhor! No dia 30 de marco de 2013, foi comemorado o aniversario da Uniao Feminina da Igreja Batista Betel, com o tema "Mulheres Salvas em Uma Sociedade Corrompida" No dia 28 de Julho, aconteceu na Igreja Batista Betel o Batismo de:Quesia BatistaMaria AngelicaHenrique SantanaMaria ElineideRodrigo Oliveira Relembrando a ressurreicao de nosso Senhor e Salvador Jesus Cristo, que vive para todo sempre! Trabalho evangelistico realizado no bairro de Cassange, local onde esta sendo construida uma congregacao. No dia 28 de julho foi realizado o batismo na Igreja Batista Betel Seer kawaii e ser Bonito por dentro e por fora alguns dizem que ser kawaii nao e forma, pode ser visto como um estilo ou estado de espirito. entao continue a ler e aprenda como se faaz n.n'' / Passos ... Siga as ultimas tendencias, fazendo sempre pesquisas em livros, internet com as amigas. Nao tenha medo de ser diferente, nao se importe e o essencial ;) e Lembre-se nao seje a penas um rostinho bonito tenha conteudo. Sorria mesmo que nao esteje filmando, nao em excesso, mais voce tambem tem que saber a hora de ser seria. mais sempre que possivel sorria, nao precisa um sorriso monstrando os dente, um sorriso com a boca fechada e mais kawaii XD Usar roupas Unicas e interessantes, usar tambem bastante acessorios que combinem entre si. acessorios bonitos como lacinhos, coracoes, pulseiras, colares, aneis, presilhas ... Se for usar maquiagem nao use Tons muitos escuros e nao esfumace para nao parecer *Sexy* o objetivo e parecer Kawaii. Mantenha sempre delicado o traco do delineador (de preferencia sempre liquido) e se quer usar sombra opte por cores claras ou sempre brilhante, batons claros ou gloss, sobre a mascara de cilios voce pode abusar se quiser tambem pode usar bastante cilios posticos, quanto mais voce parecer uma boneca melhor, nunca deixe de passar a base liquida o corretivo o po compto, e o blush para uma pele perfeita. ^u^ Se voce nao se importar mantenha sempre ao seu lado um ursinho de pelucia isso monstra o quanto fofinha voce e. em relacao a sua personalidade isso ninguem pode mudar, seja apenas voce mesma. Em questao a Higiene, mantenha-se sempre limpa com cabelo arrumado e sempre perfumado,porque e mais agradavel ficar perto de alguem perfumado do que alguem com mal odor. Fragrancia, opte por perfumes de bebe e super agravel e todo mundo gosta, sobre o cabelo com franjinha igual de indiozinho e sempre fofinho e Kawaii. Mantenha-se em boa forma, nao que voce tenha que ser Magra muito magra,tipo pele e osso eo coracao batendo, voce apenas tem que estar saudavel. Nao use palavras de baixo calor, isso nao e nada agradavel, se
esta aborrecida por algo voce apenas deixe isso de lado ignore como se nao ouvesse nada. Cultive a inocencia e a docura de uma crianca. Faca carinhas fofas, isso e super kawaii. use sempre expressoes em rede social como = n.n' / ^u^ / :3 / =^u^= / XD / :B / entre outras nao arrisquece fazendo coisas perigosas e que seus pais nao deixam, desreipeitar seus pais e feio e errado nada Kawaii. cantar sempre que estiver Feliz e quando estiver Triste tambem isso e super Fofo! saiba tirar foto, faca poses bonitos e use sempre um bom editor. Crediitos e Fontes : http://ahfofa.blogspot.com.br/2012/03/como-ser-kawaii.html