I Think Im In Love With You Lines

sayings "you have the accent?" The place

Who said I had an accent? for us, people of the South, we say that someone "speaks sharp" when he has the accent of Paris .. Finally, when he has the accent of the north, that is, for us, he lives above Montelimar .. and that even the far north already! But yes ... ! So
Read the following texts .. including one of Alphonse Daudet, taken from "Tartarin in the Alps the second volume of little-known "Tartarin Tarascon.
You come after reading this wonder if I still have the accent!

FOCUS


aways from home accents familiar
is take a little soil on his shoes!
aways accent d'Auvergne and Brittany,
It take a little moor his or her mountain!
Where, far from home, with a heavy heart, it flees,
Emphasis? But the country is a bit behind you!
is a little accent, invisible luggage
The talk of home wins in one trip! It
, for the unfortunate forced into exile,
The dialect that rubbed off on foreign words! Have
emphasis, finally, that whenever we issue,
Speaking of his country by speaking of something else! ...
No I am not ashamed of my faithful accent!
I want to make it sound and clear, resounding
And me go straight on, the mood like always, my focus
Wearing proudly on the ear!
My accent! We should listen to his knees! It is our Takeaway
Provence with us
And his voice to sing in all the chatter
As sung at the bottom of the sea shells
Listen! Speaking I sets the scene
Du Midi in the steamy mists of the North!
My focus is in itself delightful fragrance blends
D'orange and orange flavors;
It evokes both the blue-gray foliage
From our dear old olive trees with trunks stunted
And the little village where trellises
beautiful splash of blue the white country houses!
This focus point, mistral, cicada and tambourine,
To all my songs gives the same refrain,
And when you hear him singing in my word
All the words I say dance the dance!

(Mr. Zamacois, Flower wonderful Act II sc.V Fasquelle Ed.)

And here is what was said Alphonse Daudet :

Listen to this. It is time once and for all agree on that reputation as a liar northerners against southerners. There are no liars in the south, no more than Marseille Nimes to Toulouse to Tarascon. The man of the South does not lie, he is mistaken. It does not always tell the truth, but he believes that the ... His lie to him, this is not a lie is a kind of mirage ... Yes, a mirage! ... And to make me understand, are you going in the south, and you'll see. You will see that devil in countries where the sun transforms everything and does everything bigger than nature. You'll see these little hills of Provence not higher than the Butte Montmartre and will seem huge, you'll see the Maison Carree of Nimes - a jewel of shelf - which you seem as big as Notre Dame. You'll see ... Ah! the only liar in the south, if there is one, is the sun ... Everything he touches, he exaggerates! ... What was Sparta in its heyday? A small town ... What was Athens? At most a sub-prefecture ... and yet in the history they appear to us as enormous cities. That is what the sun did ... Alphonse Daudet

Tartarin Tarascon

When talking sharp .. Here is an article in the local newspaper a few years ago. The translation follows .. and I repeat this topic on another page ...!

Talk "sharp"

One Friday in June I see in the Grand Rue de Saint Hippolyte Montaigut, a young snob.
"B'Jour sir!"
I pause to watch the feet head, looking for a resemblance to someone I know. "
The young man comes into the heart the mouth and said:
" You don 'm' reconnaissezpas probably '. I 'am a student at Marseilles'. On SINCE I damn camp with my mom, I made my ch'min. Trabuquet, you know? "
" My God! I see that you've done your way my brave Trabuquet. You have good support and perhaps you've done well head. I would like to ask you a question, you who are strong in geography: Is Marseille
near Paris "

This is a translation of this article because Republican Uzès was first published en langue d'Oc sous le titre :

" Parla pounchut ".

Ca donne ceci:

Un divendres de junh, te vesi dins la granda carriera de Sant Ippocù de Montevit, un joven vestit a la moda de nostre téms, la bragueta plan sarada e lo debas de las braias mai espandit.
"B'jour M'sieur ! "
M'arresti pes despelhas lo tipo de pé en cap s'en ver sùs son morre ùn aire amb' qualqu'un de consecùt.
Lo joven s'avança la boca en cor mai apounchada, e me ditz:
" Vous m'reconnaissez pas sans dout, j'suis étudiant à Marseill' . D'puis qu' j'ai fichu le com, d' chez mamon j'fais mon chemon. Trabuquet vous savez ?"
"Bondiu ! Vesi plan qu'as saminat, brave Trabuquet. As ùna bona contenencia dins lo mond' e benléu ùn bon contenùt dins ton closc. Mas te voldria pàusar ùna question, tù que es fort en géografia
"Marseiha es a costat de Paris ? "

Des réactions et un échange s'en suivirent . Un lecteur du Nord, que le Républicain appelle :M.Uzège-Nord" écrivit ceci :

Cher Ami,
Du tonnerre votre entrefilet ! En plein dans le mille ! En ce moment, vos lecteurs ruraux doivent bien "s"esclaffer". Mais pour plus de saveur, il aurait, je pense, dû être écrit en langue d'Oc-Uzège.
Amical Bonjour.

Cela aurait donné:

Un divendré de Jun té vésé din la gran carrièro dé San Ipocu dé Montévi ùn jouïné vesti à la modo dé aro : la braguetto ben sarrado et lou débas dé los braïos maï espandi.
"B'jour M'sieu !"
M'arresté d'un co per espincha aquel tipé dos pè à la testo san veiré sus sa figuro un air de conégu.
Aquesté jouïné s'avanço bouco in the heart apounchado coumo a bésougno of Poulo, depictive diz:

"You 'probably not recognize', I am a student at Marseille." From that I understand the damn home Mamon j ' I'm chemon. Trabuquet, you know?
Bondiou! Vese bè what have braved Trabuquet camina moun ... ace uno bono counténenço, é ben Leou good countengu Din testo alor the tee voudrieï pauousa uno questioun, you think sies strong géographio. Digo me: "Marseillo're a die Cousta Pariss?"


according to reports in the Republican Uzès

Masterbate With Cintact Lense Solution