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Espanhol
Inglês
Informações
Espanhol
my computer
Inglês
my computer
Última atualização: 2013-12-15
Frequência de uso: 1
Qualidade:
Espanhol
¡speed up!
Inglês
speed up!
Última atualização: 2018-02-13
Frequência de uso: 1
Qualidade:
Espanhol
this in turn causes the ice streams to speed up.
Inglês
melting of the ice shelves in turn causes the ice streams to speed up.
Última atualização: 2016-03-03
Frequência de uso: 1
Qualidade:
Espanhol
but i can't speed up the time
Inglês
but i can't speed up the time
Última atualização: 2018-02-13
Frequência de uso: 1
Qualidade:
Espanhol
what's up my love
Inglês
what's up my love
Última atualização: 2023-08-26
Frequência de uso: 1
Qualidade:
Espanhol
what's up my friend
Inglês
what's up my friend
Última atualização: 2021-03-17
Frequência de uso: 1
Qualidade:
Referência: Anônimo
Espanhol
» obama asks regulators to speed up wall street reforms (chicago tribune)
Inglês
» obama asks regulators to speed up wall street reforms (chicago tribune)
Última atualização: 2018-02-13
Frequência de uso: 1
Qualidade:
Referência: Anônimo
Espanhol
hi what's up my friend
Inglês
how’s it going
Última atualização: 2021-07-15
Frequência de uso: 1
Qualidade:
Referência: Anônimo
Espanhol
hello what's up my friends
Inglês
hello what's up friends
Última atualização: 2023-08-25
Frequência de uso: 1
Qualidade:
Referência: Anônimo
Espanhol
» customs implementing us$4-m system to speed up operations at ports (jamaica observer)
Inglês
» customs implementing us$4-m system to speed up operations at ports (jamaica observer)
Última atualização: 2018-02-13
Frequência de uso: 1
Qualidade:
Referência: Anônimo
Espanhol
» imf: speed up energy reform to boost growth (nassau guardian)
Inglês
» imf: speed up energy reform to boost growth (nassau guardian)
Última atualização: 2018-02-13
Frequência de uso: 1
Qualidade:
Referência: Anônimo
Espanhol
esto es, en lugar de la expresión inglesa "to start preparing" que se escriba "to speed up".
Inglês
in other words, i propose that 'to start preparing' be deleted and replaced by 'to speed up'.
Última atualização: 2012-02-29
Frequência de uso: 3
Qualidade:
Referência: Anônimo
Aviso: contém formatação HTML invisível
Espanhol
the most important consequence of their increased melting is the speed up of the ice streams on land which are buttressed by these ice shelves.
Inglês
the most important consequence of their increased melting is the speed up of the ice streams on land which are buttressed by these ice shelves.
Última atualização: 2016-03-03
Frequência de uso: 1
Qualidade:
Referência: Anônimo
Espanhol
también coprotagonizó la película "you light up my life" (1977).
Inglês
he also costarred in the 1977 feature film" you light up my life".
Última atualização: 2016-03-03
Frequência de uso: 1
Qualidade:
Referência: Anônimo
Aviso: contém formatação HTML invisível
Espanhol
cabe destacar que algunas de las comunidades que han sido afectados por los embates de la naturaleza se incluyen. tras el 2011 terremotos en nueva zelanda, community "bancos de tiempo 'brought people together in an attempt to help aid and speed up the areas recovery.
Inglês
notably some of the communities who have been hit by the shocks of the natural world are included. following the 2011 earthquakes in new zealand, community‘time banks’brought people together in an attempt to help aid and speed up the areas recovery.
Última atualização: 2018-02-13
Frequência de uso: 1
Qualidade:
Referência: Anônimo
Aviso: contém formatação HTML invisível
Espanhol
do my computer assignment información sobre las aerolíneas mexicanas: regionales, de bajo costo, las charter y las comerciales, junto a las aerolíneas extranjeras que tienen servicios directos a méxico, las cuales hemos dividido por país.
Inglês
information on mexico's principal airlines: regional, budget, charter and mainline, as well as international airlines with services in mexico.
Última atualização: 2018-02-13
Frequência de uso: 1
Qualidade:
Referência: Anônimo
Espanhol
“jane eyre” by charlotte brontë (fragment pags. 267 y 268. traductor juan g. de luaces; introducción marta pessarrodona)“farewell!” was the cry of my heart as i left him. despair added, “farewell for ever!”. that night i never thought to sleep; but a slumber fell on me as soon as i lay down in bed. i was transported in thought to the scenes of childhood: i dreamt i lay in the red-room at gateshead; that the night was dark, and my mind impressed with strange fears. the light that long ago had struck me into syncope, recalled in this vision, seemed glindingly to mount the wall, and tremblingly to pause in the centre of the obscured ceiling. i lifted up my head to look: the roof resolved to clouds, high and dim; the gleam was such as the moon imparts to vapours she is about to sever. i watched her come—watched with the strangest anticipation; as though some word of doom were to be written on her disk. she broke forth as never moon yet burst from cloud: a hand first penetrated the sable folds and waved them away; then, not a moon, but a white human form shone in the azure, inclining a glorious brow earthward. it gazed and gazed on me. it spoke to my spirit: immeasurably distant was the tone, yet so near, it whispered in my heart—“my daughter, flee temptation.”“mother, i will.”so i answered after i had waked from the trance-like dream. it was yet night, but july nights are short: soon after midnight, dawn comes. “it cannot be too early to commence the task i have to fulfil,” thought i. i rose: i was dressed; for i had taken off nothing but my shoes. i knew where to find in my drawers some linen, a locket, a ring. in seeking these articles, i encountered the beads of a pearl necklace mr. rochester had forced me to accept a few days ago. i left that; it was not mine: it was the visionary bride’s who had melted in air. the other articles i made up in a parcel; my purse, containing twenty shillings (it was all i had), i put in my pocket: i tied on my straw bonnet, pinned my shawl, took the parcel and my slippers, which i would not put on yet, and stole from my room.“farewell, kind mrs. fairfax!” i whispered, as i glided past her door.“farewell, my darling adèle!” i said, as i glanced towards the nursery.no thought could be admitted of entering to embrace her. i had to deceive a fine ear: for aught i knew it might now be listening.i would have got past mr. rochester’s chamber without a pause; but my heart momentarily stopping its beat at that threshold, my foot was forced to stop also. no sleep was there: the inmate was walking restlessly from wall to wall; and again and again he sighed while i listened. there was a heaven—a temporary heaven—in this room for me, if i chose: i had but to go in and to say—“mr. rochester, i will love you and live with you through life till death,” and a fount of rapture would spring to my lips. i thought of this.that kind master, who could not sleep now, was waiting with impatience for day. he would send for me in the morning; i should be gone. he would have me sought for: vainly. he would feel himself forsaken; his love rejected: he would suffer; perhaps grow desperate. i thought of this too. my hand moved towards the lock: i caught it back, and glided on.drearily i wound my way downstairs: i knew what i had to do, and i did it mechanically. i sought the key of the side-door in the kitchen; i sought, too, a phial of oil and a feather; i oiled the key and the lock. i got some water, i got some bread: for perhaps i should have to walk far; and my strength, sorely shaken of late, must not break down. all this i did without one sound. i opened the door, passed out, shut it softly. dim dawn glimmered in the yard. the great gates were closed and locked; but a wicket in one of them was only latched. through that i departed: it, too, i shut; and now i was out of thornfield.a mile off, beyond the fields, lay a road which stretched in the contrary direction to millcote; a road i had never travelled, but often noticed, and wondered where it led: thither i bent my steps. no reflection was to be allowed now: not one glance was to be cast back; not even one forward. not one thought was to be given either to the past or the future. the first was a page so heavenly sweet—so deadly sad—that to read one line of it would dissolve my courage and break down my energy. the last was an awful blank: something like the world when the deluge was gone by.i skirted fields, and hedges, and lanes till after sunrise. i believe it was a lovely summer morning: i know my shoes, which i had put on when i left the house, were soon wet with dew. but i looked neither to rising sun, nor smiling sky, nor wakening nature. he who is taken out to pass through a fair scene to the scaffold, thinks not of the flowers that smile on his road, but of the block and axe-edge; of the disseverment of bone and vein; of the grave gaping at the end: and i thought of drear flight and homeless wandering—and oh! with agony i thought of what i left. i could not help it. i thought of him now—in his room—watching the sunrise; hoping i should soon come to say i would stay with him and be his. i longed to be his; i panted to return: it was not too late; i could yet spare him the bitter pang of bereavement. as yet my flight, i was sure, was undiscovered. i could go back and be his comforter—his pride; his redeemer from misery, perhaps from ruin. oh, that fear of his self-abandonment—far worse than my abandonment—how it goaded me! it was a barbed arrow-head in my breast; it tore me when i tried to extract it; it sickened me when remembrance thrust it farther in. birds began singing in brake and copse: birds were faithful to their mates; birds were emblems of love.%e2%80%9cjane%20eyre%e2%80%9d%20by%20charlotte%20bront%c3%ab
Inglês
“jane eyre” by charlotte brontë (fragment pags. 267 y 268. traductor juan g. de luaces; introducción marta pessarrodona)“farewell!” was the cry of my heart as i left him. despair added, “farewell for ever!”. that night i never thought to sleep; but a slumber fell on me as soon as i lay down in bed. i was transported in thought to the scenes of childhood: i dreamt i lay in the red-room at gateshead; that the night was dark, and my mind impressed with strange fears. the light that long ago had struck me into syncope, recalled in this vision, seemed glindingly to mount the wall, and tremblingly to pause in the centre of the obscured ceiling. i lifted up my head to look: the roof resolved to clouds, high and dim; the gleam was such as the moon imparts to vapours she is about to sever. i watched her come—watched with the strangest anticipation; as though some word of doom were to be written on her disk. she broke forth as never moon yet burst from cloud: a hand first penetrated the sable folds and waved them away; then, not a moon, but a white human form shone in the azure, inclining a glorious brow earthward. it gazed and gazed on me. it spoke to my spirit: immeasurably distant was the tone, yet so near, it whispered in my heart—“my daughter, flee temptation.”“mother, i will.”so i answered after i had waked from the trance-like dream. it was yet night, but july nights are short: soon after midnight, dawn comes. “it cannot be too early to commence the task i have to fulfil,” thought i. i rose: i was dressed; for i had taken off nothing but my shoes. i knew where to find in my drawers some linen, a locket, a ring. in seeking these articles, i encountered the beads of a pearl necklace mr. rochester had forced me to accept a few days ago. i left that; it was not mine: it was the visionary bride’s who had melted in air. the other articles i made up in a parcel; my purse, containing twenty shillings (it was all i had), i put in my pocket: i tied on my straw bonnet, pinned my shawl, took the parcel and my slippers, which i would not put on yet, and stole from my room.“farewell, kind mrs. fairfax!” i whispered, as i glided past her door.“farewell, my darling adèle!” i said, as i glanced towards the nursery.no thought could be admitted of entering to embrace her. i had to deceive a fine ear: for aught i knew it might now be listening.i would have got past mr. rochester’s chamber without a pause; but my heart momentarily stopping its beat at that threshold, my foot was forced to stop also. no sleep was there: the inmate was walking restlessly from wall to wall; and again and again he sighed while i listened. there was a heaven—a temporary heaven—in this room for me, if i chose: i had but to go in and to say—“mr. rochester, i will love you and live with you through life till death,” and a fount of rapture would spring to my lips. i thought of this.that kind master, who could not sleep now, was waiting with impatience for day. he would send for me in the morning; i should be gone. he would have me sought for: vainly. he would feel himself forsaken; his love rejected: he would suffer; perhaps grow desperate. i thought of this too. my hand moved towards the lock: i caught it back, and glided on.drearily i wound my way downstairs: i knew what i had to do, and i did it mechanically. i sought the key of the side-door in the kitchen; i sought, too, a phial of oil and a feather; i oiled the key and the lock. i got some water, i got some bread: for perhaps i should have to walk far; and my strength, sorely shaken of late, must not break down. all this i did without one sound. i opened the door, passed out, shut it softly. dim dawn glimmered in the yard. the great gates were closed and locked; but a wicket in one of them was only latched. through that i departed: it, too, i shut; and now i was out of thornfield.a mile off, beyond the fields, lay a road which stretched in the contrary direction to millcote; a road i had never travelled, but often noticed, and wondered where it led: thither i bent my steps. no reflection was to be allowed now: not one glance was to be cast back; not even one forward. not one thought was to be given either to the past or the future. the first was a page so heavenly sweet—so deadly sad—that to read one line of it would dissolve my courage and break down my energy. the last was an awful blank: something like the world when the deluge was gone by.i skirted fields, and hedges, and lanes till after sunrise. i believe it was a lovely summer morning: i know my shoes, which i had put on when i left the house, were soon wet with dew. but i looked neither to rising sun, nor smiling sky, nor wakening nature. he who is taken out to pass through a fair scene to the scaffold, thinks not of the flowers that smile on his road, but of the block and axe-edge; of the disseverment of bone and vein; of the grave gaping at the end: and i thought of drear flight and homeless wandering—and oh! with agony i thought of what i left. i could not help it. i thought of him now—in his room—watching the sunrise; hoping i should soon come to say i would stay with him and be his. i longed to be his; i panted to return: it was not too late; i could yet spare him the bitter pang of bereavement. as yet my flight, i was sure, was undiscovered. i could go back and be his comforter—his pride; his redeemer from misery, perhaps from ruin. oh, that fear of his self-abandonment—far worse than my abandonment—how it goaded me! it was a barbed arrow-head in my breast; it tore me when i tried to extract it; it sickened me when remembrance thrust it farther in. birds began singing in brake and copse: birds were faithful to their mates; birds were emblems of love.“jane eyre” by charlotte brontë
Última atualização: 2022-05-07
Frequência de uso: 3
Qualidade:
Referência: Anônimo
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