Walk – to move along or travel on foot at a moderate rate; to advance in such a manner that at least one foot is always on the ground, but always to advance and not retreat and wallow in the misery of hate.
“To walk the talk,” to set by example that which we demand of others.
Promenade – pour se marche à pied à un rythme modéré; Pour avancer de telle manière qu’au moins un pied soit toujours sur le sol, mais toujours pour avancer et ne pas reculer et étouffer dans la misère de la haine.
“Faut-il joindre le geste à la parole,” par exemple devenir ce que nous demandons aux autres.
Nobodiness is a malady That affects almost everybody. Won’t somebody tell everybody, Sir or madam, as the case may be, Won’t you please, please, please
Say a kind word to me It is bloody hell being a nobody One damn day after another
I am not one to wish for much, money have I not, I dream of simple things, good books, quiet summer days, being alone, or with somebody who understands these things, and finding none, I scream.
Je ne souhaite pas beaucoup, l’argent n’ai-je pas, je rêve de choses simples, de bons livres, de tranquilles journées d’été, d’être seul ou avec quelqu’un qui comprend ces choses, et en ne trouvant personne, je crie.
Funny is the thought that had I money, louder would I scream.
Ich bin ein kleines Kind und Geld habe ich nicht. Darum, ich bin nicht einer um viel zu wünschen, ich träume von einfachen Dingen, ruhigen Sommertagen, Bäume zu klettern, um die Welt zu sehen, allein oder mit jemandem, der diese Dinge versteht und keine findet, schreie ich.
I have a friend with the uncommonly unusual last name of Niebbelink. Like my wife, her lineage is Dutch. Intrigued, I asked my friend whether “Niebbelink” was a place name or an occupation.
She didn’t know.
Niebbelink, sometimes spelled Nibelink, sometimes Groot Niebbeling and sometimes Klein Niebelink. The origin of the name is lost in the mists of time. Some authorities speculate that it derives from Norse mythology. The Niebelung were a tribe that lived in the dark and deep forest where they guarded a treasure.
The poem had an oral tradition dating to events as early as the 5th and 6th centuries. The written poem was lost in the 16th century and rediscovered in the 18th. In the 19th century, Richard Wagner wrote four operas, collectively known as Der Ring des Nibelungen, s story of Siegfried, the dragon-slayer, his murder, the theft of the treasure, and the revenge of Kriemhild, Siegfried’s wife.
German director Fritz Lang wrote and directed the silent classic, Der Niebelungen in 1924.
It is not to far from Niebelung to Nibbelink. The German suffix -ung denotes an action, spring from one place to another. In Dutch, the suffix -ink denoted someone from the clan of Nibel. This clan desingation was most commonly used in the two Dutch provinces of Overijssel and Gelderland, both of which are in the eastern regions of Holland bordering Germany.
“Groot” and “klein” are the two Dutch adjectives for large and small.
My friend proudly announced that she was a Groot Nibbelink, explaining that her grandfather was a tall man. While “groot” sometimes referred to the size of the individual, more often it referred to the size of the clan, thus, the greater and smaller clan of Nibbelinks.
Let us go one step further. Nibel is most likely from the German word “nebel” meaning: fog, mist, or haze, i.e, a place deep in the woods where the clan hid their treasure.
An alternate theory, the root word is “nebanan” meaning the tribe from “next door”.
Il n’y a pas tant d’hommes de bonne fortune comme il y a des jolies femmes pour les méritons. Jane Austin
My idea of good company is the company of well-informed people who have lots of clever conversation. That is what I call good company.
Lacking that, I find that a good chair will suffice. Alone, to sit in the shade and gaze upon God’s green earth is the most perfect refreshment. There, I can escape the unpleasant thought that there are not so many men of large fortune in the world as there are pretty women to deserve them.
Mainly Jane Austin
There are too many quotes on good company to quote them all. I’ll just leave you with this:
En général, l’espoir n’est pas un bon guide, mais il est la bonne compagnie et souvent tout ce que vous avez.
Hope is generally not a good guide but it is good company and too often all you’ve got.
“Ha, ha, ha” is how we write laughter, but it is no substitute for the real thing.
An American English major visiting the chateaux along the Loire, needing mightily take a leak, spots a French pissoir.
Going in he is Russian. Inside he is European. Leaving he’s Finnish.
When done, is he Danish?
Without humans, there would be no humor in the world, no laughter nor guffaws, and not even the hint of a smirk. A bird flying from pole to pole would find, on returning home to his nest for a well earned rest, sadly not even a smile.
There once was a movie called Truman That asked, “Is it important to be human?” Said the fly as he visits the freshly laid turd, If man was gone from the face of the earth, Would one cockroach care?
Une fois un film a été appelé Truman Qui demandé, « Est-il important d’être humain? » Dit la mouche comme il visite l’étron fraîchement pondus, Si l’homme avait disparu de la face de la terre, Voudrais les cafards cesseraient-ils?
Einmal war ein Film Truman genannt Das fragte: „Ist es wichtig, ein Mensch zu sein?“ Sagte die Fliege, als er die frisch gelegte Kackwurst besucht, Wenn der Mensch aus der Erde verschwunden, Würde Kakerlaken unglücklich sein?
Don’t read this, it’s meant
Just for me and not for you
Who stumbled on this poem
Just by accident.
Who smelled a pretty red, red rose
Dreaming of her handsome sweet, sweet love
And so, was stung by a bee
Was it on her lip or on her nose?
I’ll let you guess
Of Rosemarie, her love and the bee
Comme ce soit c’est fois
Ne lisez pas cela
C’est seul pour moi
Pas pour toi
Qui a arrive a ce poème
Juste par accidentellement
Qui sentait une rose rouge rouge
Rêver de son amour doux doux
Et a été piqué par une abeille
Était-ce sur sa lèvre ou nez?
Je vous laisse deviner
Just a word before I go. It seems we are forever saying farewell. Often we say it casually, in which case, “goodbye” is appropriate. Now, if one wants to interject a little feeling into the goodbye, one says “farewell”. “Fare thee well” if one likes pomposity and English verse.
Farewell also suggests a more permanent departure. In the military, staff and friends put on a “hale and farewell” for departing members of a unit. Hail and Farewell being a translation of “ave atque vale”, Gaius Valerius Catullus’ last words of the poem Carmen 101.
All this leads me to the thought that nothing is permanent. Goodbyes and farewells are in order. And as I will be away for a few days, I will just say “goodbye” or maybe “so long”.
Personally I have always like the French way, saying “À bientôt!”
Robert Frost’s Nothing Gold Can Stay was first published in 1923 and is I believe still under copyright. For that reason, I will quote only the first two lines and the last two in English and give the full translation into French. Therefore, it is an academic study and exempt from copyright laws.
If not, I will hear a “hello” from someone.
Premier vert de la nature est l’or,
Difficile sa teinte à tenir.
Au début sa feuille une fleur;
Seulement si une heure.
Puis la feuille affaisse à la feuille.
Alors Eden a sombré à la douleur,
Comme l’aube va à jour.
Rien de l’or ne restera.
Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.