Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Birthday Invitation Wording For Dylan
the moon - Giacomo Leopardi
O lovely moon, I remember
That, or the year turns, over this hill
I came full of anguish to behold:
And you hung over those forest
Since you do now, that all the clearing up. But
misty and tremulous with tears
What I sorgea the side, to my eyes Your face seemed
that afflict
was my life and it is, or changes his style,
O my beloved moon. And while I gain
remembered, and the range of my pain
l'Etat. Oh, how grateful should
Over time, young people, even when long and short
The hope was the memory course,
The remembrance of things past, which Even
sad, and that the fatigue hard!
Composed in 1819 (for some in 1820) to found a Recanati first publication in 1825 with the title "remembered." The dominant theme, as in The Infinite, the joy and pain, then betrayed by one escape: memories of their youth.
Giacomo Leopardi (Recanati, June 29, 1798 - Naples, June 14, 1837) 
O lovely moon, I remember That, or the year turns, over this hill
I came full of anguish to behold:
And you hung over those forest
Since you do now, that all the clearing up. But
misty and tremulous with tears
What I sorgea the side, to my eyes Your face seemed
that afflict
was my life and it is, or changes his style,
O my beloved moon. And while I gain
remembered, and the range of my pain
l'Etat. Oh, how grateful should
Over time, young people, even when long and short
The hope was the memory course,
The remembrance of things past, which Even
sad, and that the fatigue hard!
Composed in 1819 (for some in 1820) to found a Recanati first publication in 1825 with the title "remembered." The dominant theme, as in The Infinite, the joy and pain, then betrayed by one escape: memories of their youth.
Giacomo Leopardi (Recanati, June 29, 1798 - Naples, June 14, 1837)
Mouth Cancer In Dogs Images
Clear fresh and sweet water - Francesco Petrarca In
Clear
fresh and sweet waters where the fair members
poses only one who seems to me woman, gentle
branch where it pleased,
with sighs' I remember,
her to do the nice side column;
grass and flowers that skirt
graceful ricoverse
co angelic breast
air sacred, peaceful co
where Love 'beautiful eyes opened my heart:
hearing dates set
my words to the painful extremes.
If he is indeed my destiny,
and 'the sky in this s'adopra, that Love
close these eyes weeping, some favor the poor
covers
body between you and the soul back to his hotel naked;
the death will be less cruel if this hope
port in that uncertain step, because
weary spirit
could never more rested in port or in more quiet grave
flee troubled flesh and bones. Time will perhaps even
used that to stay the
back the beautiful and gentle beast, and there
'v'ella
saw me on that blessed day
turn her desirous and glad,
looking for; and o mercy!
already seeing the ground below the stones
, Love the way that I long to breathe
so sweetly that m'impetre mercy, and uses force to heaven
wiping her eyes with her lovely veil.
From 'Well branches descended,
sweet in memory, a rain of flowers over
' s her lap, and she sat
humble in such glory, already
covert cloud of love, which
flower falls on the limb, which
on the braids, which now
pearls were elevated and that of to see them;
which rested on the ground and what about the waves, which, with a vague error
shooting seemed to say: "Here reigns Love." How many times have I said
then full of dread:
"She came to standstill in paradise!" So
the burden of oblivion and divine bearing
's face and the words' her sweet smile
m'aveano, and was divided by the image
true
ch'i' he sighs:
"Here, as venn'io or when? "
believed to be in heaven, where he was not.
From that pleased me in
This herb is not elsewhere, or peace.
If you'd like ornaments quant'ài,
Poresta
boldly come out of forest and go among people .
sonnet of the Canzoniere (Petrarch Francisci graduates poets Rerum vulgarium fragmenta) written between 1332 and 1348.
It 's the most famous song Petrarch: Francesco wants to be buried in the waters of the Sorgue, in that place where there appeared a most agreeable day his lady, in a rain of flowers.
Francesco Petrarca (Arezzo, July 20, 1304 - Arquà, July 19, 1374) 
Clear fresh and sweet waters where the fair members
poses only one who seems to me woman, gentle
branch where it pleased,
with sighs' I remember,
her to do the nice side column;
grass and flowers that skirt
graceful ricoverse
co angelic breast
air sacred, peaceful co
where Love 'beautiful eyes opened my heart:
hearing dates set
my words to the painful extremes.
If he is indeed my destiny,
and 'the sky in this s'adopra, that Love
close these eyes weeping, some favor the poor
covers
body between you and the soul back to his hotel naked;
the death will be less cruel if this hope
port in that uncertain step, because
weary spirit
could never more rested in port or in more quiet grave
flee troubled flesh and bones. Time will perhaps even
used that to stay the
back the beautiful and gentle beast, and there
'v'ella
saw me on that blessed day
turn her desirous and glad,
looking for; and o mercy!
already seeing the ground below the stones
, Love the way that I long to breathe
so sweetly that m'impetre mercy, and uses force to heaven
wiping her eyes with her lovely veil.
From 'Well branches descended,
sweet in memory, a rain of flowers over
' s her lap, and she sat
humble in such glory, already
covert cloud of love, which
flower falls on the limb, which
on the braids, which now
pearls were elevated and that of to see them;
which rested on the ground and what about the waves, which, with a vague error
shooting seemed to say: "Here reigns Love." How many times have I said
then full of dread:
"She came to standstill in paradise!" So
the burden of oblivion and divine bearing
's face and the words' her sweet smile
m'aveano, and was divided by the image
true
ch'i' he sighs:
"Here, as venn'io or when? "
believed to be in heaven, where he was not.
From that pleased me in
This herb is not elsewhere, or peace.
If you'd like ornaments quant'ài,
Poresta
boldly come out of forest and go among people .
sonnet of the Canzoniere (Petrarch Francisci graduates poets Rerum vulgarium fragmenta) written between 1332 and 1348.
It 's the most famous song Petrarch: Francesco wants to be buried in the waters of the Sorgue, in that place where there appeared a most agreeable day his lady, in a rain of flowers.
Francesco Petrarca (Arezzo, July 20, 1304 - Arquà, July 19, 1374)
Pink Mechanic Coveralls
death of his brother John - Ugo Foscolo
One day, if I do not always go running away
From race to race, you'll see me sitting
on your stone, or my brother, groaning
The flowers de 'your kind year fell.
Mother or sol, of late taking her
about me with your silent ashes:
But I disappointed you tend palms;
And if my roof greeting from afar.
feel the adverse gods, and the secret
care that they were to live your storm
And I pray in your port too quiet. This
of so much hope left for me today!
strange people, you make my bones
Then the mother's chest sad.
Sonnet (written in 1803) that describes the despair over the loss of his brother who committed suicide in 1801 (he had twenty years), because of his gambling debts .
Ugo Foscolo (Zakynthos, February 6, 1778 - London, September 10, 1827) 
One day, if I do not always go running away From race to race, you'll see me sitting
on your stone, or my brother, groaning
The flowers de 'your kind year fell.
Mother or sol, of late taking her
about me with your silent ashes:
But I disappointed you tend palms;
And if my roof greeting from afar.
feel the adverse gods, and the secret
care that they were to live your storm
And I pray in your port too quiet. This
of so much hope left for me today!
strange people, you make my bones
Then the mother's chest sad.
Sonnet (written in 1803) that describes the despair over the loss of his brother who committed suicide in 1801 (he had twenty years), because of his gambling debts .
Ugo Foscolo (Zakynthos, February 6, 1778 - London, September 10, 1827)
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Building A Pontoon Trailer
were the Cape d'Gold the aura around - Francesco Petrarca
Capei were the golden aura around
Che 'n thousand sweet avolgea the nodes,
It 's vague light burned beyond measure
Of those beautiful eyes which now they are so scarce;
It' s pitiful face of color do,
do not know if true or false, I think:
I 'love to his chest that had the bait,
What wonder if just burned?
It was the passing her mortal thing but of angelic form
, and the words sounded more
that although the human voice;
A celestial spirit, a living sun was
what I 'saw, and whether or not such
Plague to loosen arc not healthy.
Sonnet of the best known of the Canzoniere (Petrarch Francisci graduates poets Rerum vulgarium fragmenta) written in memory of his beloved Laura Noves, between 1332 and 1348.
Francesco Petrarca (Arezzo, July 20, 1304 - Arquà, July 19, 1374) 
Capei were the golden aura around Che 'n thousand sweet avolgea the nodes,
It 's vague light burned beyond measure
Of those beautiful eyes which now they are so scarce;
It' s pitiful face of color do,
do not know if true or false, I think:
I 'love to his chest that had the bait,
What wonder if just burned?
It was the passing her mortal thing but of angelic form
, and the words sounded more
that although the human voice;
A celestial spirit, a living sun was
what I 'saw, and whether or not such
Plague to loosen arc not healthy.
Sonnet of the best known of the Canzoniere (Petrarch Francisci graduates poets Rerum vulgarium fragmenta) written in memory of his beloved Laura Noves, between 1332 and 1348.
Francesco Petrarca (Arezzo, July 20, 1304 - Arquà, July 19, 1374)
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