<?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-5617151789989710947</id><updated>2011-04-21T22:22:04.208-07:00</updated><category term='Eslovac'/><category term='Castellà'/><category term='Esperanto'/><category term='japonès'/><category term='Hidekata Yakura'/><category term='Anglés'/><category term='Michal Matusov'/><category term='barbollaire'/><category term='Jean-Mmarc Leclercq'/><category term='Gal·les'/><category term='Occità'/><category term='Anglés nadiu'/><category term='Jose Luis Carvalho'/><category term='português'/><category term='Francès'/><category term='Hilary Chapman'/><category term='morse'/><category term='Ferriol'/><category term='Xurri'/><category term='Tibetà'/><title type='text'>És un dir...</title><subtitle type='html'>Traduccions de tot arreu</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>p</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13536324933066513890</uri><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>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617151789989710947.post-7908302260916540514</id><published>2008-08-16T11:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T11:25:00.408-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jose Luis Carvalho'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='português'/><title type='text'>Português</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Per Jose Luis Carvalho&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;Caminhavam devagar. O mais alto era um homem solene, bem vestido, com a barba cinzenta e as bochechas um pouco avermelhadas; o outro, magro, sem barbear, parecia que estava em convalescença. Estavam absortos na conversa e o mais alto detinha-se de vez em quando e passava a mão pela barba como se quisesse medir bem as palavras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Na vida não há tempo para tudo. Rir e chorar, divertir-se e entediar-se… e no momento de nascer já tens de te preparar para morrer. Porque a vontade de chorar que têm os bebés é porque já o sentem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Já sentem o quê?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- O cheiro que se escapou da morte. Depois acostumam-se…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5617151789989710947-7908302260916540514?l=esundir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/feeds/7908302260916540514/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617151789989710947&amp;postID=7908302260916540514' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/7908302260916540514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/7908302260916540514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/2008/08/portugus.html' title='Português'/><author><name>Xurri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18157872792670150341</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2866/1575/1600/197167/sabatilles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617151789989710947.post-1051278704722906472</id><published>2008-07-15T11:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T11:24:55.629-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='morse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='barbollaire'/><title type='text'>Morse</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://barbollaire.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Per Barbollaire&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;-.-. .- -- .. -. .- ...- . -. / .- / .--. --- -.-. / .- / .--. --- -.-. .-.-.- //&lt;br /&gt;. .-.. / -- . ... / .- .-.. - / . .-. .- / ..- -. / .... --- -- . / ... --- .-.. . -- -. . --..-- //&lt;br /&gt;-... . -. / ...- . ... - .. - --..-- //&lt;br /&gt;.- -- -... / .-.. .- / -... .- .-. -... .- / --. .-. .. ... .- / .. / . .-.. ... / .--. --- -- ..- .-.. ... / ..- -. .- / -- .. -.-. .- / ...- . .-. -- . .-.. .-.. ... --..-- //&lt;br /&gt;.-.. .----. .- .-.. - .-. . --..-- / -- .- --. .-. . --..-- / ... . -. ... . / .- ..-. .- .. - .- .-. --..-- //&lt;br /&gt;... . -- -... .-.. .- ...- .- / --.- ..- . / .- -.-. .- -... . ... / -.. . / ... --- .-. - .. .-. / -.. .----. ..- -. .- / -- .- .-.. .- .-.. - .. .- .-.-.-//&lt;br /&gt;. ... - .- ...- . -. / .- -... ... - .-. . - ... / . -. / .-.. .- / -.-. --- -. ...- . .-. ... .- / .. / . .-.. / -- . ... / .- .-.. - / ... .----. .- - ..- .-. .- ...- .- / -.. . / - .- -. - / . -. / - .- -. - / .. / . ... / .--. .- ... ... .- ...- .- / .-.. .- / -- .- / .--. . .-. / .-.. .- / -... .- .-. -... .- / -.-. --- -- / ... .. / ...- --- .-.. --. ..- . ... / ... --- ... .--. . ... .- .-. / -... . / .-.. . ... / .--. .- .-. .- ..- .-.. . ... .-.-.- //&lt;br /&gt;.- / .-.. .- / ...- .. -.. .- / -. --- / .... .. / .... .- / - . -- .--. ... / .--. . .-. / .- / - --- - .-.-.-//&lt;br /&gt;.-. .. ..- .-. . / .. / .--. .-.. --- .-. .- .-. --..--//&lt;br /&gt;-.. .. ...- . .-. - .. .-. -....- ... . / .. / . -. ... --- .--. .. .-. -....- ... . .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- //&lt;br /&gt;.. / . -. / . .-.. / .--. ..- -. - / -.. . / -. . .. -..- . .-. / .--- .- / - .----. .... .- ... / -.. . / .--. .-. . .--. .- .-. .- .-. / .- / -- --- .-. .. .-. .-.-.- //&lt;br /&gt;.--. . .-. --.- ..- . / .-.. . ... / --. .- -. . ... / -.. . / .--. .-.. --- .-. .- .-. / --.- ..- . / - . -. . -. / .-.. . ... / -.-. .-. .. .- - ..- .-. . ... / -.. . / -... --- .-.. --.- ..- . .-. ... / . ... / .--. . .-. --.- ..- . / .--- .- / .... --- / ... . -. - . -. .-.-.- //&lt;br /&gt;.--- .- / ... . -. - . -. / --.- ..- . ..--.. //&lt;br /&gt;.-.. .----. --- .-.. --- .-. / --.- ..- . / .... .. / .... .- / . ... -.-. .- -- .--. .- -.. .- / -.. . / .-.. .- / -- --- .-. - .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- //&lt;br /&gt;-.. . ... .--. .-. . ... / ..- -. / ... .----. .... .. / .- ...- . ... .- .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.-//&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;Claus:&lt;br /&gt;1. / separa les paraules.&lt;br /&gt;2. // Separa les frases&lt;br /&gt;3. No hi ha lletres accentuades&lt;br /&gt;4. Hi ha apòstrof, coma i punt. Però no punt i coma&lt;br /&gt;5. S’ha dividit el tex en 15 frases seguint la puntuació del text original &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5617151789989710947-1051278704722906472?l=esundir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/feeds/1051278704722906472/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617151789989710947&amp;postID=1051278704722906472' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/1051278704722906472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/1051278704722906472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/2008/07/morse.html' title='Morse'/><author><name>Xurri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18157872792670150341</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2866/1575/1600/197167/sabatilles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617151789989710947.post-9013337959463677415</id><published>2008-07-12T16:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T16:26:00.831-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hidekata Yakura'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='japonès'/><title type='text'>Japonès</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://paulparis.exblog.jp/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Per Hidetaka Yakura&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;彼らはゆっくりと歩を進めた。一番背の高い、白いものが混じった顎鬚を生やし、少し赤ら顔の男は品よく着こなしていた。もう一人の男は痩せ、髭は伸び放題。病み上がりに見えた。彼らは話し込んでいた。背の高い方は時々話をやめ、言葉を吟味するように髭に手をやった。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;人生ですべてをやる時間はない。笑い、泣き、楽しみ、そして退屈する。人は生まれるやいな&lt;br /&gt;死の準備をしなければならない。赤ん坊が泣くのは知っているから・・・&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;何を知っている？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;それは赤ん坊が嗅いでいるのが死の匂いだということを・・・そして、そのうち慣れてしまうのだ。&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5617151789989710947-9013337959463677415?l=esundir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/feeds/9013337959463677415/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617151789989710947&amp;postID=9013337959463677415' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/9013337959463677415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/9013337959463677415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/2008/07/japons.html' title='Japonès'/><author><name>p</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13536324933066513890</uri><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-5617151789989710947.post-8035799607805289059</id><published>2008-06-17T20:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T01:06:56.758-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Anglés nadiu'/><title type='text'>Anglés nadiu</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Per Marc Waudby&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;They walked slowly. The tallest one was a solemn, well-dressed man, with a grey beard and ruddy cheeks; the other one, skinny and unshaven, looked as if he was recovering from an illness. They were absorbed in conversation and the tall one stopped from time to time, stroking his beard as though mulling over his words.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;-There isn't time to do everything in life. To laugh, to cry, have fun and get bored... and at the time of birth you have to prepare to die. Tiny babies can already smell it, that's why they feel like crying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;-What can they smell?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;-The smell of death everywhere... But later on, you get used to it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5617151789989710947-8035799607805289059?l=esundir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/feeds/8035799607805289059/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617151789989710947&amp;postID=8035799607805289059' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/8035799607805289059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/8035799607805289059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/2008/06/angls-nadiu.html' title='Anglés nadiu'/><author><name>Xurri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18157872792670150341</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2866/1575/1600/197167/sabatilles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617151789989710947.post-3591715235176527541</id><published>2008-06-17T13:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T01:04:50.492-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Anglés'/><title type='text'>Anglés estudiat</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Per Xurri&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were walking slowly. The tall man was solemn, well dressed, with a grey beard and blushed cheeks; the other one, thin, unshaven, looked like recovering from disease. They were absorbed in conversation, and the tall one stopped now and then, fingering his beard like willing to carefully weight his words:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Life is too short for everything. Laughing and crying, to enjoy and to get bored... and as soon as you are born, you must get ready to die. That's why babies feel like crying, because they feel it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-They feel what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The smell of death spreading around... then one gets used.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5617151789989710947-3591715235176527541?l=esundir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/feeds/3591715235176527541/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617151789989710947&amp;postID=3591715235176527541' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/3591715235176527541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/3591715235176527541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/2008/06/angls-estudiat.html' title='Anglés estudiat'/><author><name>Xurri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18157872792670150341</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2866/1575/1600/197167/sabatilles.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617151789989710947.post-4248149602201820476</id><published>2008-06-17T13:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T03:18:42.241-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tibetà'/><title type='text'>Tibetà</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Per Palyang Sherap&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Gompa lhoe lhoe gyap ne doki dukidug. Tsangmey nangne mi dhe ringshoe dang bapchakpo dang khapu tsonta gohde dang khotsue marpo. Ani shendag mi dhe kampo dang ara bah mepa dang ani duks tana zsugu kyopo yoepa dang nepa dapo. Khontso tzangma kehcha nangla dhonang teh ne deshak ani mi kampo dhe kecha shedue thoktsam thoktsam gak doki yoepare. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;-Metse nang la mitsangma la doetso yomare. Gemoshorwa sok nuyak sok, kyipotangyak sok khartuk deyak. Kheyak duetso la shiyak dati jegore.gang yinzena puko dentso knunyi dodue sosue tsonang hago ki yore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;- tsonang gare re?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;-shikyok ki dima tampa ... dene deh gom doki re.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkTC4FTR8d0/SEWPyQFv4LI/AAAAAAAAAIM/cRksSsq4IZA/s1600-h/traduccio_tibeta.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207726637599154354" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkTC4FTR8d0/SEWPyQFv4LI/AAAAAAAAAIM/cRksSsq4IZA/s400/traduccio_tibeta.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Donem les gràcies a Ngawang, de &lt;a href="http://www.casadeltibetbcn.org/principal.html"&gt;La Casa del Tibet de Barcelona&lt;/a&gt;, per la transcripció a l'alfabet tibetà. Potser el primer fragment de la Mercè Rodoreda en aquesta llengua?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5617151789989710947-4248149602201820476?l=esundir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/feeds/4248149602201820476/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617151789989710947&amp;postID=4248149602201820476' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/4248149602201820476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/4248149602201820476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/2008/06/tibet.html' title='Tibetà'/><author><name>Xurri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18157872792670150341</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/2866/1575/1600/197167/sabatilles.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SkTC4FTR8d0/SEWPyQFv4LI/AAAAAAAAAIM/cRksSsq4IZA/s72-c/traduccio_tibeta.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617151789989710947.post-7626999883223167333</id><published>2008-06-02T16:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T16:36:04.956-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eslovac'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Michal Matusov'/><title type='text'>Eslovac</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Per Michal Matusov&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;Pochodovali pomaly. Ten najvyššý bol slávnostný muž, elegantný,ktorého brada bola sivá a líca načervenalé; iný, štíhly, neoholený, ktorého vhľad akoby sa ozdravil. Boli zahĺbený v konverzácii a tennajvyšší z času na čas zastal a pohladil si bradu akoby chcel dobrezvážiť slová, ktoré povie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;-Nie je čas spraviť všetko v živote. Usmiať sa a plakat, zabaviť a nudiť sa ... práve narodením sa musí byť hotový pre smrť. Lebo plačlivosť bábetok jasne ukazuje, že to cítia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;-Čo cítia?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;-Rozvoniavanie smrti... Trocha neskôr si na to zvyknú...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5617151789989710947-7626999883223167333?l=esundir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/feeds/7626999883223167333/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617151789989710947&amp;postID=7626999883223167333' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/7626999883223167333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/7626999883223167333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/2008/06/eslovac.html' title='Eslovac'/><author><name>p</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13536324933066513890</uri><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-5617151789989710947.post-5191454934496857965</id><published>2008-05-25T10:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T10:24:32.905-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Francès'/><title type='text'>Francès</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Per Alain Verjat&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Ils marchaient lentement. Le plus grand, un homme à barbe grise, les pommettes un peu rouges, était élégamment vêtu; l'autre était maigre, mal rasé, on aurait dit qu'il relevait de maladie. Ils étaient absorbés par leur conversation et le plus grand s'arrêtait de temps en temps et passait sa main dans sa barbe comme quelqu'un qui veut peser ses mots.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;- Dans la vie, on n'a pas le temps de tout faire. On rit, on pleure, on s'amuse et on s'ennuie, et on n'est pas plus tôt nés qu'il faut se préparer à mourir. Si les bébés pleurent, c'est parce qu'ils savent...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;-Ils savent quoi?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;-Ils savent que l'odeur qu'ils sentent est celle de la mort... Après, on s'habitue...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5617151789989710947-5191454934496857965?l=esundir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/feeds/5191454934496857965/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617151789989710947&amp;postID=5191454934496857965' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/5191454934496857965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/5191454934496857965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/2008/05/francs.html' title='Francès'/><author><name>p</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13536324933066513890</uri><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-5617151789989710947.post-4107043743033278573</id><published>2008-04-27T15:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T15:19:29.148-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Italià</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Per Nicola Ruggiero&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Camminavano poco a poco. Il più alto era un uomo solenne, ben vestito, dalla barba grigia e dalle guance un po' vermiglie; l'altro, magro, non rasato, aveva l'aspetto di uno appena rimessosi in sesto da una malattia. Erano assorbiti nella conversazione e il più alto dei due si fermava di tanto in tanto e si accarezzava la barba, quasi volesse soppesare per bene le parole. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;- Nella vita non si ha il tempo per tutto. Ridere e piangere, divertirsi e annoiarsi... e appena nati già ci si deve preparare a morire. Perché i gemiti dei lattanti indicano chiaramente che essi lo sentono. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;-Cosa sentono?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;-L'odore sparso della morte... Un po' più tardi ci si abitua...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5617151789989710947-4107043743033278573?l=esundir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/feeds/4107043743033278573/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617151789989710947&amp;postID=4107043743033278573' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/4107043743033278573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/4107043743033278573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/2008/04/itali.html' title='Italià'/><author><name>p</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13536324933066513890</uri><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-5617151789989710947.post-8089322482467321959</id><published>2008-04-21T15:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T15:38:59.709-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Castellà'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Xurri'/><title type='text'>Castellà</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Per Xurri&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Caminaban despacio. El más alto era un hombre solemne, bien vestido, con barba gris y pómulos algo enrojecidos; el otro, flaco, sin afeitar, parecía que acabase de salir de alguna enfermedad. Estaban abstraídos en la conversación, y el más alto se detenía de vez en cuando y se pasaba la mano por la barba, como si quisiera sopesar bien las palabras. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;-En la vida no hay tiempo para todo. Reír y llorar, divertirse y aburrirse… y en el punto de nacer ya tienes que prepararte para morir. Porque las ganas de llorar que tienen las criaturas de pañales es porque ya lo sienten.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;-¿ya sienten qué?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;- El olor de muerte que hay por todas partes... Después uno se acostumbra... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5617151789989710947-8089322482467321959?l=esundir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/feeds/8089322482467321959/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617151789989710947&amp;postID=8089322482467321959' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/8089322482467321959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/8089322482467321959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/2008/04/castell.html' title='Castellà'/><author><name>p</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13536324933066513890</uri><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-5617151789989710947.post-89108946064283955</id><published>2008-04-16T15:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T15:23:17.861-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Occità'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jean-Mmarc Leclercq'/><title type='text'>Occità</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Per Jean-Marc Leclercq&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Que caminavam a plasèr. Lo mei grand èra un òme solemne, vestit de plan, dab la barba grisa e las gautas drin arrojas, l'aute, magre, pas rasat, que semblava tot escàs sortit d'ua malautia. Qu'èran empensats hens la lora pròsa e lo mei grand que s'estancava a còps entà's passar la man a la barba com se's volèva pesar los mots. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;– Hens la vita n'i a pas temps entà tot. S'arríser e plorar, divertí's e s'avejar ... au moment de nèisher que't cau dejà aprestí's de morir. Las envejas de plorar deus nenòts que son pr'amor qu'ac sentisson. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;– De qué sentisson ? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;– L'aulor espandida de la mòrt ... Mei tard òm s'i acostuma ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5617151789989710947-89108946064283955?l=esundir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/feeds/89108946064283955/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617151789989710947&amp;postID=89108946064283955' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/89108946064283955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/89108946064283955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/2008/04/occit.html' title='Occità'/><author><name>p</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13536324933066513890</uri><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-5617151789989710947.post-6342338087614965416</id><published>2008-04-07T15:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T15:54:28.803-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gal·les'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hilary Chapman'/><title type='text'>Gal·lès</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Per Hilary Chapman&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;Cerddent yn araf. Gŵr dwys a difrifol oedd y talaf ohonynt, wedi'i wisgo'n drwsiadus, ac â barf lwyd a bochau cochion ganddo; edrychai'r llall, un main, heb eillio, fel petai'n ymadfer wedi salwch. Roeddynt ar ganol sgwrs ac o bryd i'w gilydd byddai'r gŵr tal yn aros gan dynnu ei law dros ei farf fel petai am bwyso'i eiriau'n ofalus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;-Mewn bywyd prif fod amser i bopeth. Chwerthin a chrio, cael hwyl a gwagswmera … ac ar union ddiwrnod eich geni rhaid ichi ymbaratoi i farw. Welwch chi, mae babanod yn eu clytiau am grio oherwydd maen nhw'n ei glywed yn barod. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;-Yn clywed beth yn barod?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;-Aroglau angau sydd o'n cwmpas ni ym mhobman… Mae dyn yn dod i arfer ag e ymhen amser... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5617151789989710947-6342338087614965416?l=esundir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/feeds/6342338087614965416/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617151789989710947&amp;postID=6342338087614965416' title='0 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/6342338087614965416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/6342338087614965416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/2008/04/galls.html' title='Gal·lès'/><author><name>p</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13536324933066513890</uri><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-5617151789989710947.post-6555250384998606597</id><published>2008-04-04T16:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T15:27:47.593-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Esperanto'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ferriol'/><title type='text'>Esperanto</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://ca.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ferriol_Macip_i_Bonet"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Per Ferriol&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Ili marŝis malrapide. Tiu plej alta estis solena viro, eleganta, kies barbo estis griza kaj vangoj ruĝetaj; tiu alia, maldika, nerazita, kies aspekto kvazaŭ ĵus resaniĝanta. Ili estis absorbiĝintaj en la konversacio kaj tiu plej alta haltis de tempo al tempo kaj karesis sian barbon kvazaŭ se li volus bone mezuri la dirotajn vortojn,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Oni ne havas tempon por ĉion fari en la vivo. Ridi kaj plori, amuziĝi kaj malamuziĝi... ĵus naskiĝinte oni devas ekpretiĝi por mortiĝo. Ĉar la ploremo de la beboj klare montras ke tion ili sentas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Kion ili sentas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-La disa flaro de la morto... Iom pli poste oni alkutimiĝas al ĝi... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5617151789989710947-6555250384998606597?l=esundir.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/feeds/6555250384998606597/comments/default' title='Comentaris del missatge'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617151789989710947&amp;postID=6555250384998606597' title='1 comentaris'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/6555250384998606597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617151789989710947/posts/default/6555250384998606597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://esundir.blogspot.com/2008/04/esperanto.html' title='Esperanto'/><author><name>p</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13536324933066513890</uri><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></feed>
