SEND FLOWERS TO ANOTHER COUNTRY. TO ANOTHER COUNTRY
Send flowers to another country. Flowers israel.
Send Flowers To Another Country
- Another Country is a play by written by English playwright Julian Mitchell that premiered in 1981 at the Greenwich Theatre in south-east London and later transferred to the West End in March 1982. In the summer of 2000 the play was revived at The Oxford Playhouse.
Another Country is a 1984 British romantic biographical film by Julian Mitchell adapted from his play of the same title. The film, directed by Marek Kanievska, stars Rupert Everett as Guy Bennett along with Colin Firth as Tommy Judd.
Another Country is a 1962 novel by James Baldwin. The novel tells of the bohemian lifestyle of musicians, writers and other artists living in Greenwich Village in the late 1950s. It portrayed many taboo themes such as bisexuality, interracial couples and extramarital affairs.
- Send Flowers is the debut album release from Black Lungs, the side project of Alexisonfire guitarist and backing vocalist Wade MacNeil. MacNeil's sound has been described as "the soundtrack for punk rockers, hip hoppers, pill poppers, young ladies and show stoppers."
ELEGY - by Thomas Gray (1751)
AN ELEGY, &c.
THE Curfeu tolls the Knell of parting Day,
The lowing Herd winds slowly o'er the Lea,
The Plow-man homeward plods his weary Way,
And leaves the World to Darkness, and to me.
Now fades the glimmering Landscape on the Sight,
And all the Air a solemn Stillness holds;
Save where the Beetle wheels his droning Flight,
And drowsy Tinklings lull the distant Folds.
Save that from yonder Ivy-mantled Tow'r
The mopeing Owl does to the Moon complain
Of such, as wand'ring near her sacred Bow'r,
Molest her ancient solitary Reign.
Beneath those rugged Elms, that Yew-Tree's Shade,
Where heaves the Turf in many a mould'ring Heap,
Each in his narrow Cel for ever laid,
The rude Forefathers of the Hamlet sleep.
The breezy Call of Incense-breathing Morn,
The Swallow twitt'ring from the Straw-built Shed,
The Cock's shrill Clarion, or the ecchoing Horn,
No more shall wake them from their lowly Bed.
For them no more the blazing Hearth shal burn,
Or busy Houswife ply her Evening Care:
No Children run to lisp their Sire's Return,
Or climb his Knees the envied Kiss to share.
Oft did the Harvest to their Sickle yield,
Their Furrow oft the stubborn Glebe has broke;
How jocund did they drive their Team afield!
How bow'd the Woods beneath their sturdy Stroke!
Let not Ambition mock their useful Toil,
Their homely Joys and Destiny obscure;
Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful Smile,
The short and simple Annals of the Poor.
The Boast of Heraldry, the Pomp of Pow'r,
And all that Beauty, all that Wealth e'er gave,
Awaits alike th' inevitable Hour.
The Paths of Glory lead but to the Grave.
Forgive, ye Proud, th' involuntary Fault,
If Memory to these no Trophies raise,
Where thro' the long-drawn Isle and fretted Vault
The pealing Anthem swells the Note of Praise.
Can storied Urn or animated Bust
Back to its Mansion call the fleeting Breath?
Can Honour's Voice provoke the silent Dust,
Or Flatt'ry sooth the dull cold Ear of Death!
Perhaps in this neglected Spot is laid
Some Heart once pregnant with celestial Fire,
Hands that the Reins of Empire might have sway'd,
Or wak'd to Extacy the living Lyre.
But Knowledge to their Eyes her ample Page
Rich with the Spoils of Time did ne'er unroll;
Chill Penury repress'd their noble Rage,
And froze the genial Current of the Soul.
Full many a Gem of purest Ray serene,
The dark unfathom'd Caves of Ocean bear:
Full many a Flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its Sweetness on the desart Air.
Some Village-Hampden that with dauntless Breast
The little Tyrant of his Fields withstood;
Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest,
Some Cromwell guiltless of his Country's Blood.
Th'Applause of list'ning Senates to command,
The Threats of Pain and Ruin to despise,
To scatter Plenty o'er a smiling Land,
And read their Hist'ry in a Nation's Eyes
Their Lot forbad: nor circumscrib'd alone
Their growing Virtues, but their Crimes confin'd;
Forbad to wade through Slaughter to a Throne,
And shut the Gates of Mercy on Mankind,
The struggling Pangs of conscious Truth to hide,
To quench the Blushes of ingenuous Shame,
Or heap the Shrine of Luxury and Pride
With Incense, kindled at the Muse's Flame.
Far from the madding Crowd's ignoble Strife,
Their sober Wishes never learn'd to stray;
Along the cool sequester'd Vale of Life
They kept the noiseless Tenor of their Way.
Yet ev'n these Bones from Insult to protect
Some frail Memorial still erected nigh,
With uncouth Rhimes and shapeless Sculpture deck'd,
Implores the passing Tribute of a Sigh.
Their Name, their Years, spelt by th' unletter'd Muse,
The Place of Fame and Elegy supply:
And many a holy Text around she strews,
That teach the rustic Moralist to dye.
For who to dumb Forgetfulness a Prey,
This pleasing anxious Being e'er resign'd,
Left the warm Precencts of the chearful Day,
Nor cast one longing ling'ring Look behind!
On some fond Breast the parting Soul relies,
Some pious Drops the closing Eye requires;
Ev'n from the Tomb the Voice of Nature cries
Awake, and faithful to her wonted Fires.
For thee, who mindful of th' unhonour'd Dead
Dost in these Lines their artless Tale relate;
If chance, by lonely Contemplation led,
Some hidden Spirit shall inquire thy Fate,
Haply some hoary-headed Swain may say,
'Oft have we seen him at the Peep of Dawn
'Brushing with hasty Steps the Dews away
'To meet the Sun upon the upland Lawn.
'There at the Foot of yonder nodding Beech
'That wreathes its old fantastic Roots so high,
'His listless Length at Noontide wou'd he stretch,
And pore upon the Brook that babbles by.
'Hard by yon Wood, now frowning as in Scorn,
'Mutt'ring his wayward Fancies he wou'd rove,
'Now drooping, woeful wan, like one forlorn,
'Or craz'd with Care, or cross'd in hopeless Love.
'One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd Hill,
'Along the Heath, and near his fav'rite Tree;
'Another came; nor yet beside the Rill,
'Nor up the La
Mooncake Festival!
haha at last my internet connection is fine. I missed Flickr! Yesterday was mooncake festival celebrated by the chinese.
Heres a little infos i know bout mooncake festival. Mooncake Festival celebrates the birthday of the moon and its also known as Mid Autumn Fest. Normally this day brings the family together including eating mooncakes. I remember I once attended a tradisional mooncake celebration that includes prayers, many kinds of food, sitting at the veranda, children will b singing mooncake fest songs, adults drinking tea, talking and of cos the lantern carrying tradition!
Children will normally b playing paper made lanterns with candles int he mid. haha but these days, theres lanterns function by batteries and music.
See those rounded mooncakes? some has egg yolks in the centre tht symbolises the moon. The traditional fillings of mooncakes are red bean paste, lotus seed paste [my fav =p], coconut, black sesame, green tea.. n many more. The modern filings we can find in the market today includes white coffee with choc bits, tiramisu, and even durian! lol some even put raspberry fillings
Theres actually many stories on the origins of mooncakes. Theres a legend of a lady called Chang Er, also knwon as the lady of the moon tht flew to the moon. Ten sun existed back then, and a long drought persisted, so the emperor asked for archers to shoot down the suns. The best archer was Chang Er's husband that shot down 9suns. He was then given immortality pills and bcame a tyrant with his new power. To save the country, Chang Er stole the pill and swallowed it herseldf, then she flew to the bright moon and became the Moon Goddess. It is said that she lives with a rabbit and a cassia tree, that is why mooncakes are stamped with designs of moon lady, the jade rabbit, or grooves of cassia trees.
Sounds irrelevant? theres another more logical story that talks about the harsh ruling of the Mongols on the China in the 14th century. In order for the chinese to send secret messages of uprising the mongols, they embedded informations in th cakes so when the chinese cut the mooncakes to eat, they will know about the secret messages.
Nowadays, some bakers put printed peaces of paper on mooncakes with words of wisdom so its not a surprise to find one! =p
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