October 2018 2 23 Report

Napiszecie mi opinie na temat jakiego kolwiek artykułu politycznego?

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"My-dla przyszłości...chcę żyć w czystym środowisku".To jest hasło konkursu plastycznego. Potrzebuję jakąś myśl lub hasło do plakatu. Dzięki haśle można wygrać, więc chciałabym, żeby to było coś mądrego i zarazem nietypowego, wymyślonego. :)
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Czy miłość Tristana i Izoldy można uznać za prawdziwą? Rozwiń swoją wypowiedź.Please! Pilne :)
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Opisz zdjęcie podane w załączniku i odpowiedz na poniższe pytania.1. What do you think is in the photos they're looking at ?2. In your opinion, what characteristics should a good husband or wife have ?3. Tell me about an important event from your life which is recorded in photographs.Proszę jak najszybciej i nie piszcie po polsku a potem w tłumacz bo to widać jak jest napisane. Najlepiej samemu. Z góry dzięki. :)
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Przetłumaczcie mi ten tekst, albo chociaż połowe prooosze !! Wiem, że jest tego baardzo dużo ale musze to przetłumaczyć. Tylko ma być to zrobione profesjonalnie. Jeśli ktoś wrzuci to do tłumacza a potem tu wklei to ja to sprawdze i spamuje. Z góry dzięki :) Little Miss MarryNobody seemed to care about Mary. She was born in India, where her father was a British official. He was busy with his work, and her mother, who was very beautiful, spent all her time going to parties. So an Indian woman, Kamala, was paid to take care of the little girl. Mary was not a pretty child. She had a thin angry face and thin yellow hair. She was always giving orders to Kamala, who had to obey. Mary never thought of other people, but only of herself. In fact, she was a very selfish, disagreeable, badtempere little girl.One very hot morning, when she was about nine years old, she woke up and saw that instead of Kamala there was a different Indian servant by her bed.Mary saw that there was a different Indian servant by her bed. 'What are you doing here?' she asked crossly. 'Go away! And send Kamala to me at once!'The woamn looked afraid. 'I'm sorry, Miss Mary, she-she-she can't come!'Something strange was happening that day. Some of the house servants were missing and everybody looked frightened. But nobody told Mary anything, and Kamala still did not come. So at last Mary went out into the garden, and played by herself under a tree. She pretended she was making her own flower garden, and picked large red flowers to push into the ground. All the time she was saying crossly to herself,'I hate Kamala! I'll hit her when she comes back!'Just then she saw her mother coming into the garden, with a young Englishman. They did not notice the child, who listened to their conversation.'It's very bad, is it?' her mother asked the young man in a worried voice.'Very bad,' he answered seriously. 'People are dying like flies. It's dangerous to stay in this town. You should go to the hills, where there's no disease.''Oh, I know!' she cried. ' We must leave soon!'Suddenly they heard loud cries comin from the servants' rooms, at the side of the house.'What's happened?' cried Mary's mother wildly.'I think one of your servants has just died. You didn't tell me the disease is here, in your house!''I didn't know!' she screamed. 'Quick, come with me!''You didn't tell me the dsease is here, in your house!'And together they ran into the house.Now Mary understood what was wrong. The terrible disease had already killed many people in the town, and in all the houses people were dying. In Mary's house it was Kamala who had just died. Later that day three more servants died there.All throught the night and the next day people ran in and out of the house, shouting and crying. Nobody thought of Mary. She hid in her bedroom, frightened by the strange and terrible sounds that she heard around her. Sometimes she cried and sometimes she slept.When she woke the next day, the house was silent. 'Perhaps the disease has gone,' she thought, 'and everybody is well again. I wonder who will take care of me instead of Kamala? Why doesn't someone bring me some food? It's strange the house is so quiet.'But just then she heard men's voices in the hall.'How sad!' said one. 'That beautiful woman!''There was a child too, wasn't there?' said the other.'Although none of us ever saw her.'Mary was standing in the middle of her room when they opened the door a few minutes later. The two men jumped back in surprise.'My name is Mary Lennox,' she said crossly. 'I was asleep when everyone was ill, and now I'm hungry.''It's the child, the one nobody ever saw!' said the older man to the other. 'They've all forgotten her!''Why was I forgotten?' asked Mary angrily. 'Why has nobody come to take care of me?'The younger man looked at her very sadly. 'Poor child!' he said. 'You see, there's nobody left alive in the house. So nobody can come.'In this strange and sudden way Mary learnt that both her mother and her father had died. The few servants who had not died had run away in the night. No one had remembered little Miss Mary. She was all alone.Because she had never known her parents well, she did not miss them at all. Dhe only thought of herself, as she had always done.'Where will I live?' she wondered. 'I hope I'll stay with people who'll let me do what I want.'At first she was taken to an English family who had known her parents. She hated their untidy house and noisy children, and preferred playing her favourite game, pretending to make a garden, when one of the children, Basil, offered to help.'Go away!' cried Mary. 'I don't want your help!''For a moment Basil looked angry, and then he began to laugh. He danced round and round Mary, and sang a funny little song about Miss Mary and her stupid flowers. This made Mary very cross indeed. No one had over laughed at her so unkindly.'You're going home soon,' said Basil. 'And we're all very pleased you're leaving!''I'm pleased too,' replied Mar. 'But where's home?'You're stupid if you don't know that!' laughed Basil.'England, of course! You're going to live with your uncle, Mr Archibald Craven.''I've never heard of him,' said Mary coldly.'But I know about him because I heard Father and Mother talking,' said Basil. 'He lives in a big lonely old house, and has no friends, because he's so bad-tempered. He's got a crooked back, and he's horrid!'I don't believe you!' cried Mary. But the next day Basil's parents explained that she was going to live with her uncle in Yorkshire, in the north of England. Mary looked bored and cross and said nothing.'He's got a crooked back, and he's horrid!'After the long sea journey, she was met in London by Mr Craven's housekeeper, Mrs Medlock. Together they travelled north by train. Mrs Medlock was a large woman, with a very red face and bright black eyes. Mary did not like her, but that was not surprising, because she did not usually like people. Mrs Medlock did not like Mary either.'What a disagreeable child!' thought the housekeeper.'But perhaps I should talk to her.''I can tell you a bit about your uncle if you like,' she said aloud. 'He lives in a big old house, a long way from anywhere. There are nearly a hundred rooms, but most of them are shut and locked. There's a big park round the house, and all kinds of gardens. Well, what do you think of that?''Nothing,' replied Mary. 'It doesn't matter to me.'Mrs Medlock laughed. ' You're a hard little girl! Well, if you don't care, Mr Craven doesn't either. He never spends time on anyone. He's got a crooked back, you see, and although he's always been rich, he was never really happy until he married.''Marries?' repeated Mary in surprise.'Yes, he married a sweet, pretty girl, and he loved her deeply. So when she died''Oh! Did she die?' asked Mary, interested.'Yes, she did. And now he doesn't care about anybody. If he's at home, he stays in his room and sees nobody. He won't want to see you, so you must stay out of his way and do what you're told.'Mary stared out of the train window at the grey sky and the rain. She was not looking forward to life at her uncle's house.The train journey lasted all day, and it was dark when they arrived at the station. Then there was a long drive to get to the house. It was a cold, windy night, and it was raining heavily. After a whilr Mary began to hear a strangr, wild noise. She looked out of the window, but could see nothing except the darkness.;What's that noise?' she asked Mrs Medlock. 'It's – It's not the sea, is it?''No, that's the moor. It's the sound the wind makes blowing across the moor.''What ia a moor?''It's just miles and miles of wild land, with np. trees or houses, Your uncle's house is right on the edge of the moor.'Mary listened to the strange, frigltening sound. 'I don't like it,' she thought. 'I don't like it.' She looked more disagreeable than ever.
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Ułożycie piosenkę o wiośnie taką nie z neta, dla II gimnazjalistów?Plissdaję najja ;p
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Ułóż piosenkę o swojej klasie o każdej osobie o imionach:Danielek PiotrMarekMateuszMateuszPatrycjaKamilaOlaDamianMateuszSzymonPatrycjaEdytaRafałMichałDamianJeśli nie uda wam się o wszystkich imionach to może być albo o samych chłopakach albo o dziewczynach tych wymienionychDam najj ;))
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Przedstaw historię sporu cesarstwa z papieżem w XI i XII wieku. Czym zakończył się ten konflikt?Proszę abyście nie ściągali tego z neta!!Dam naj
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Jak młodzież rozumie i przeżywa miłość?Pliss jest to mi bardzo potrzebne na dzisiaj bo musze zrobić to na poniedziałekDaję najj
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Błagam przetłumaczcie mi to ale ma być profesjonalnie nie tłumaczcie w tłumaczu.There is a lot of music, and very good Italian food too. A big parade goes along Mulberry and Mott Streets, between Canal and Houston Streets, on 19 September.Greenwich Village is west of Broadway, between 14th in south-east London when the British were in New York before the War of Independence. Many famous artists and writers lived in the old houses on the little streets of Greenwich Village; Edgar Allan Poe, Mark Twain, Jackson Pollock, Jack Kerouas, and Allen Ginsberg all lived here. There are interesting shops, cafes, art galleries, jazz clubs, and theatres.
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Proszę przetłumaczyć mi ten tekst na język polski tylko nie kopjuj do tłumacza. Bo ja to sprawdzę. Ma być przetłumaczone profesjonalnie. Z góry dzięi; )For some of the best views of the city, take a Circle Line boat around the island of Manhattan. You can learn a lot about the city, and you can see views of the other four boroughs of New York.Or go in a helicopter and look down on the skyscrapers! Helicopters leave from West 30th Street and Twelfth Avenue, and from Pier 6, the East River.The people of France gave the Statue of Liberty to the American people in 1886. The statuee is about 150 feet high, and her arm is 42 feet long. From the tenth floor there are wonderful views of New York. Get your ticket from the ticket office at Battery Park before you get on the ferry. There is also a museum on Liberty Island.Between 1892 and 1954, Ellis Island was the first stop for nearly 17 million immigrants. All the ships from Europe stopped here. Many famous people came through Ellis Island-Isaac Asimow, Samuel Goldwyn, Rudolf Valentino, Sigmund Freud, Charlie Chaplin and Walt Disnay. Todey, you can take a ferry boat across the river and visit Ellis Island. Here, in the museum, you can see pictures of many of those immigrants.South Street Seaport is by the East River. It tells the story of New York, the sea, and the rivers. It is full of shops, restaurants, museums, and ships old and new.AROUND MANHATTANSouth of Canal Street and west of Chatham Square is New York's Chinatown. Chinese people first came to New York around 1850. Most of them were men; they lived and worked in New York, and sent money home to their families. Many helped to build the railways in California and across the West before they came to New York.Today, more than 80,000 Chinese-Americans live in Chinatown. There are many interesting shops here, and when you want to eat or drink, there are restaurants and tea-shops everywhere - nearly 400 of them.Little Italy is north of Canal Street and west of the Bowery. It was once the home of thousands of Italian immigrants, and now it has some of the best Italian restaurants in the city.Each year in September there is the Festival of San Gennaro. Three million people come every year to enjoy the eleven days of the festival.
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