Posts filed under ‘.languages’

Frida Kahlo and Her Animalitos

by Monica Brown, illustrated by John Parra
Frida Kahlo and Her Animalitos, written by Monica Brown and illustrated by John Parra, is based on the life of one of the world’s most influential painters, Frida Kahlo, and the animals that inspired her art and life.

“Feet, what do I need you for when I have wings to fly?”—Frida Kahlo

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November 17, 2019 at 8:25 pm Leave a comment

Kaya Maaman: Hello Daddy

November 6, 2019 at 8:25 pm Leave a comment

Djinda Djinda Kanangoor

Would you like to learn how to sing Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star in Noongar?

Experience Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star in the traditional language of South Western Australia.
Djinda Djinda Kanangoor is a Noongar version of one of the much loved children’s lullaby – Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.

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November 4, 2019 at 8:25 pm Leave a comment

Demain

Tomorrow – Cyril Dion and Mélanie Laurent
Many things have been tried to resolve the ecological and economic crises. They haven’t really worked. According to Nobel Peace Prize laureate Mohammed Yunnus, the strongest driving force in human beings is their desire and their imagination. He believes that today we must make films and tell stories that spark the desire to build another world. This is what Cyril Dion and Mélanie Laurent decided to do by lining up known solutions in all spheres side-by-side to show what our society could look like tomorrow…

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October 4, 2019 at 8:25 pm Leave a comment

Anyada Buena

Happy and Sweet New Year!

September 29, 2019 at 8:25 pm Leave a comment

La mer

by Charles Trenet

September 12, 2019 at 8:25 pm Leave a comment

L’odeur de mon pays était dans une pomme

Lucie Delarue-Mardrus

Lucie DELARUE-MARDRUS (Ferveur, 1902)

L’odeur de mon pays était dans une pomme.
Je l’ai mordue avec les yeux fermés du somme,
Pour me croire debout dans un herbage vert.
L’herbe haute sentait le soleil et la mer,
L’ombre des peupliers y allongeaient des raies,
Et j’entendais le bruit des oiseaux, plein les haies,
Se mêler au retour des vagues de midi…

Combien de fois, ainsi, l’automne rousse et verte
Me vit-elle, au milieu du soleil et, debout,
Manger, les yeux fermés, la pomme rebondie
De tes prés, copieuse et forte Normandie ?…
Ah! je ne guérirai jamais de mon pays!
N’est-il pas la douceur des feuillages cueillis
Dans la fraîcheur, la paix et toute l’innocence?

Et qui donc a jamais guéri de son enfance ?…

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September 12, 2019 at 3:25 pm Leave a comment

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