the sow

Italian - Spanish False Friends

Italian                                          Spanish                    

accostarsi: approach                   acostarse: go to bed

burro: butter                                 burro: donkey

caldo: hot                                      caldo: soup

carta: paper                                  carta: card/letter

camino: fireplace                         camino: patth

caro: dear                                      caro: expensive

equipaggio: crew                         equipajo: baggage

filo: strings                                    filo: blade

imbarazzo: embarrassment       embarazo: pregnancy

lobo: lobe                                      lobo: wolf

nudo: naked                                  nudo: knot

ombre: shadows                          hombre: man

poste: mails                                   poste: pole

primo: first                                    primo: cousin

rata: payment                               rata: rat

sembrare: seem                           sembrar: sow

tuttavia: however                        todavía: yet

vaso: vase                                      vaso: glass

10

The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003) dir. Peter Jackson

“Do you remember the Shire, Mr. Frodo? It’ll be spring soon. And the orchards will be in blossom. And the birds will be nesting in the hazel thicket. And they’ll be sowing the summer barley in the lower fields… and eating the first of the strawberries with cream. Do you remember the taste of strawberries?”

I've been greatly enjoying your blog, and wanted to offer something. A summary of the time my paladin won a D&D campaign after it had already been lost.

Amidst raging battle that drowned the fortress-forest of Elerriet, the last great battle as the darkness swallowed the flame forever in our world, the following scene occurred:
The great enemy, his legions without number and his power unchallenged, had come himself to take up his wretched blade and be among the last struggling of an enemy who knew full well that they had failed. An ancient prophecy had been told to warn the world of his return, but only the elves had remembered, only they had believed.

The dark messiah shall return from his banishment of eons, his power no longer restrained by life or death. In his defeat we sow the seeds of a greater destruction, yet trust this world to the children yet unknown to us. For as long as the light eternal can be brought to lie beneath the soil of the holy fields of the glorious never-forgotten, there is yet hope. His armies will be without number, his might unassailable, but for the light of hope that will still flicker until the very last. Seek it when he returns, come as one to bring the light home to its’ destined place, and only then may out world be saved.

The elves had sought the everflame lantern, wrought of glass spun from the tears of angels that had once wept for joy and burning with a fire that burned without need of aught but a vessel, finding it leagues away and safe from the dark one’s armies. Heroes had been gathered, champions of the houses that held true to their ancient duty. Only one among them was not an elf, Victor Dawnbringer of the Holy Order of the Seekers of Darkness. He had been sent by his order’s grandmaster to aid the elves, to seek out the darkness that they had tried to warn the Human kingdoms about and aid them in its’ destruction.

They had taken up the quest and had failed, a dragon slain and bound by the great enemy’s wretched blade had taken the lantern from them and crushed it in her talons, ending the hope of salvation for all the world. Thus had the elves gathered, man woman and child all, thus had Victor’s order obeyed his summons to battle, and in the fortress-forest they stood ready to shake the world with the sounds of their defiance to the very last. If light was to die and darkness prevail, they would at least make themselves known at the last. A final futile act of defiance, a refusal to submit even in the face of total annihilation.

The trees were aflame throughout, but refused to turn to ash, their ancient magic holding them steady even as the hellish fire tore at the bark and leaves, turning them black. It was a vision of hell and through it all strode the great enemy himself, the very incarnation of evil, his wretched blade sundering shield and armour, flesh and bone, sword and spell; all the power of the world could no longer touch him. The gates of the field of the never-forgotten soon lay before him, the blood of thousands watering the forest floor and turning the gentle light of the holy place a virulent red. Between the dark messiah and his objective stood Victor Dawnbringe. The ashes of a thousand lesser warriors of the darkness lay about the gates, and the dead and dying of the order with them. The mantle of the grandmaster was around the neck of the paladin who stood ready, and his challenge to the messiah of pure evil rang out with such force that the forest itself seemed to turn and watch.

They ran at each other, sword against sword, the wretched blade’s foul energies crashing against the brilliant light of the sun’s blade that Victor carried. Both warriors lost their shields in the first pass, and in the second Victor was wounded such that only his own unbreakable force of will prevented him from falling dead at the dark one’s feet. For the first time since his return, for the second time in his blasphemous existence, the dark messiah spoke to the man who defied even the defeat of his own god. “You are weak.” The voice did not carry through the air, it was a resonance that corrupted the very name of language. It simply became, and burned in Victor’s mind. “You are mortal. Submit and die, you belong in thrall to me as do all your race. You cannot win, there is no eternal light to be laid to rest here, there is only you, and your light is soon to be extinguished. On your knees, human paladin, you have failed and failure’s only reward is come for you.”

Victor’s sword lowered, a deathly weakness nearly overcoming him, but his eyes blazed with righteous fury. “Mortal? You’re wrong, you have failed yourself, filth of the world. I came here initiate of the order that seeks the darkness, I am the only one of my race who heeded the call to arms. I was crowned champion of the light by a hand that held the crown of the first champion, and knighted lord by the sword that pierced your own heart. I traveled through the swamps of entropic decay to gather the lantern, my sword of the sun claimed twelve dark hearts from the hydra that assailed us there, and my hand brought back life to the one who fell in battle there. The wraiths of the shadow plains were driven before us like flax in the wind, and it was I who lit the way for our band to follow. I walked with my friends through the desert without end, and though we did not all survive the ordeal we reached the temple on the other side to retrieve the everflame. I held the lantern as we escaped the temple’s collapse, I shielded the lantern through trials and with my friends I destroyed the corrupted ancient wyrm that you sent to end all hope.” Victor sagged slightly more, paling from the loss of blood.

“I gathered my order for this last act of defiance, and they came as by command, the grandmaster himself passed his title to me and here I have come without hesitation to face you myself in single combat. I am the only grandmaster to be appointed while another yet lives and I am the last who shall ever wear this holy relic. I have done what no other man could do, I have become what few men living ever shall, I am no mortal, I am a hero, I am a legend, I have torn immortality from the jaws of hell and I will live forever in the songs that will be sung of me! I am immortal, I am Victor Dawnbringer, I seek the darkness and I bring light to the places where none dare enter! I am your destiny and I stand ready to lie at rest on these holy grounds, so look now upon me you creature of pitch! Look upon me and know fear!” He raised his sword, and at once his whole body burst into bright, golden flame. His sword shone so brightly that it became impossible to look upon it, and with a cry that burst into light as he spoke it Victor charged the dark one like a bolt of thunder.

“Blade by which I have lived, blade with which I now die, bear me witness this one final time. Still one last heart of evil, end one more life of pain. Strike true, old friend, then farewell.”

The cry that came from the great enemy was of pain, and rage, and of unconcealedable fear. The prophecy had been fulfilled even after being broken, and even in the darkest hour, light had remained true in the heart of the one true champion of the light. His body had burned away as it was fed to the fatal strike, his life, his mind, his very soul consumed by the holy blade of the sun. That blade now glowed with the dawn’s pure light even now that its’ master was gone forever. The only human to be permitted entry to the elven holy grounds, the youngest by ten centuries of the glorious dead interred there. The dawnblade sits now in the hands of a statue in likeness of Victor Dawnbringer, held aloft above all others there, and written beneath are his own words by which he was best remembered.

“Sometimes, when the cause is great enough, to fail in your quest can still become a glorious thing.”

animelovers2081  asked:

How would the mukamis react if yui was holding hands with a guy from class?

Ruki: … Kch, it seems like someone has not learnt their lesson underneath me.

Kou: Wah~ It’s almost like M Neko-chan is screaming for another punishment~

Yuma: Why the fuck do I care…? I just drink her blood… Ngh… that damn Sow.

Azusa: This is why… Eve-san hasn’t looked at me… for a while… she hates me..

anonymous asked:

I know a common theory is that Missandei could be a faceless man, but could she instead be a sorrowful man? Like, Dany remembers that its said that they never fail so could they just keep coming after her until she's finally dead?

Originally posted by gif-007

With no desire to give offense, those are really awful theories. Not only do they have no basis in the text whatsoever, not only do they stand at right angles to established characterization and motive, but they don’t even bear up to a moment’s logical consideration of their basic premises. 

Consider this: Missandei has been at Dany’s side, literally at her left hand, and as one of her handmaidens, sleeps in the same tent as Dany, feeds Dany herself, for a year or more. She must have had hundreds if not thousands of opportunities to assassinate Dany, and yet Dany lives. Hell, Missandei acts to save Dany when Mero tries to kill her:

“There’s the treacherous sow,” he said. “I knew you’d come to get your feet kissed one day.” His head was bald as a melon, his nose red and peeling, but she knew that voice and those pale green eyes. “I’m going to start by cutting off your teats.” Dany was dimly aware of Missandei shouting for help…”

“Missandei was pulling Dany to her feet when she heard a crack. She thought Arstan’s staff had snapped until she saw the jagged bone jutting from Mero’s calf.” (ASOS, Dany V)

The Faceless Men are the best in the world, and even the Sorrowful Men are supposed to be competent: does that conspicuous lack of assassination sound like their modus operandi?

cause-of-death-anime-boys  asked:

Yuma you're just my favorite vampire I love you much *^*♡ can you give me a hug please? Thank you so much you're amazing >\\\< Pd: My sister just adore Subaru so can you give her a hug Subaru? ^-^

♥Yuma: If that’s what you want, Sow…
Ha! Got you! -he took the chance to bite your neck while he was hugging you- heh, I can’t believe you fell for it.

♥Subaru: I can smell your sister’s blood from here… Are you sure you want me to hug her?

Anyone lived in a pretty how town

By E. E. Cummings

anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn’t he danced his did.

Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn’t they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain

children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone’s any was all to her

someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain