Journey in Life: 02/13/14

Thursday, February 13, 2014

"To the tune of" nghĩa là gì?

Một chú khỉ tarsier bé xíu. Photo courtesy edward musiak.

'To the tune of' có nghĩa là tổng số một cái gì.

Ví dụ
Cell phones today come with a variety of optional (tự chọn) services. These include text messaging and wireless internet capability. But these features aren’t cheap. In fact, they can cost you a lot more, to the tune of several more dollars per month. For that amount, you should think carefully about what you really need.

Customs (hải quan) officials were surprised when they opened a man’s luggage and an exotic (kì lạ) bird flew out. Then, moments later, a miniature (bé tí xíu) monkey jumped out of his pants. A judge sentenced him to the tune of 30 days in jail. Perhaps in that amount of time, he’ll figure out why he tried such a crazy (điên rồ) thing!

Huyền Trang
VOA

Transform_Feb 13

Con bò hạnh phúc... Photo courtesy StevenW.

"Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad."
~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (27/2/1807 – 24/3/1882), sinh ra tại Portland, Maine (sau này là một phần của tiểu bang Massachusetts) là một nhà thơ Mỹ, tác giả của nhiều tập thơ nổi tiếng: The Song of Hiawatha (Bài ca về Hiawatha), A Psalm of Life (Bản thánh ca của cuộc đời), Excelsior... Ông cũng là tác giả của bản dịch La Divina Commedia (Thần khúc) ra tiếng Anh được cho là hay nhất. Ông cũng là một trong năm nhà thơ tiêu biểu của văn thơ Mỹ đương thời...

hình bên phải là chân dung Longfellow vào năm 1868, chụp bởi Julia Margaret Cameron.
-----

WHAT THE HEART OF THE YOUNG MAN
SAID TO THE PSALMIST

TELL me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream ! —
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real ! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal ;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way ;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle !
Be a hero in the strife !

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant !
Let the dead Past bury its dead !
Act,— act in the living Present !
Heart within, and God o'erhead !

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time ;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate ;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

Previous post: Transform_Feb 11