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ppppoooo(½ð±Ò+3): 2011-02-19 19:31:15
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3Â¥2011-02-19 18:16:39
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houchw

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ppppoooo(½ð±Ò+3): 2011-02-19 19:31:08

1¡¢there is added to the pleasures of increasing sensory response and motor control the pleasure of the mothers¡¯ encouragement.
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2¡¢(I myself) first (saw)( Samarkand){[from a rise ][across a wilderness of crumbling ruins] and [great graveyards] which lie between it and the airport. }
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2Â¥2011-02-19 15:24:56
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zjdaniel

½ð³æ (СÓÐÃûÆø)


ÒýÓûØÌû:
Originally posted by Mally89 at 2011-02-19 10:16:39:
1¡¢there is added to the pleasures of increasing sensory response and motor control the pleasure of the mothers¡¯ encouragement.
there is ·­ÒëΪÓС£andǰºóÁ½¾ä»°¡£µÚÒ»¾ä»°ÊÇÌí¼Óµ½the pleasures o ...

1¡¢there is added to the pleasures of increasing sensory response and motor control the pleasure of the mothers¡¯ encouragement.
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2¡¢I myself first saw Samarkand from a rise across a wilderness of crumbling ruins and great graveyards which lie between it and the airport.
Ö÷¾ä£ºI saw Samarkand. myselfÊÇͬλÓï¡£firstÊÇʱ¼ä×´Ófrom a rise ÊÇ´Ó....£¬±íʾµØµã×´ÓacrossÊÇÐÞÊÎriseµÄ¶¨Ógreat graveyards ºÍcrumbling ruins²¢ÁУ¬whichÊÇÐÞÊÎgreat graveyards µÄ¶¨Óï¡£¡£¡£

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[ Last edited by zjdaniel on 2011-2-21 at 10:55 ]
4Â¥2011-02-21 10:13:39
ÒÑÔÄ   ¹Ø×¢TA ¸øTA·¢ÏûÏ¢ ËÍTAºì»¨ TAµÄ»ØÌû

zjdaniel

½ð³æ (СÓÐÃûÆø)


ppppoooo(½ð±Ò+4): 2011-02-21 14:41:00
ÒýÓûØÌû:
Originally posted by ppppoooo at 2011-02-19 06:52:36:
1¡¢there is added to the pleasures of increasing sensory response and motor control the pleasure of the mothers¡¯ encouragement.
2¡¢I myself first saw Samarkand from a rise across a wilderness of ...

µÚ¶þÌâÊÇÖпÆÔº¿¼²©ÔĶÁÊÔÌâ
An Unforgettable Journey

I myself first saw Samarkand from a rise across a wilderness of crumbling ruins and great graveyards which lie between it and the airport.    Suddenly we caught a glimpse of painted minarets trembling in the blue light and the great blue domes of mosques and tombs shouldering the full weight of the sky among bright green trees and gardens. Beyond the gardens and the glittering domes still were those watchful mountains and their evocative now. I found myself thinking of the thrill I had on catching my first sight of Damascus after crossing the desert from Syria. The light, the orchards and many of the trees were the same but deeper still was the sense of coming into contact with one of the most astonishing cultures in history, the world of the one and only Allah and his prophet muhammad.    It was a world that completely overawed me.

Yet the memory of samarkand which stays with me most clearly is quite a humble one. Coming back to the city from the country on my last evening we passed some unusual elm trees and I stipped to have a look at them. They were, my guide told me, perhaps a thousand years old,older certainly than Genghis Khan. It was very still and the mountains away towards Persia were purple, white and pink in the declining light. A flock of fat-tailed sheep ( the same kind of fattailed sheep that my own ancestors saw a Hattentot keeping when they landed at the Cape of Good Hope three hundred and eleven years ago and 9,000 miles away), tended by some Tadshik children, moved slowly home in the distance leaving a trail of yellow dust in the air. Then from the city came quite clearly the call to prayer form mosque and minaret. I had not expected any calls and all and it made no difference that some of the calls some over loud -- speakers. Then beyond the trees and old man had appeared on a donkey, dismounted, spread a prayer msat on the ground, and hneeling towards Mecca,he began to paray, it was a strangely quiet and moving scene and I had to pull myself together to remember where I really was in a modern republic of Soviet Russia.

From Samarkand I journeyed on to Bokhra which was once the holiest city in Central Asia. At one time it possessed over a hundred religious colleges and close to four hundred mosques. No wonder that for all its cruel past it was called Bokhara-es- Sherif, or Bokhara the Noble, and gossip about it in the markets of Allepo, Istanbul, Venice and Granada had a powerful effect on the imagination of Europe. It drew adventurers of all races towrds it as it did Marco Polo. Not many of them reached their ddstination; in more recent times as the traffic of silk, spices, jewels and slaves which passed through it became threatened, things became even more dangerous for the travellers, or disguised holy men. But these days, at what used to be one of the richest market places in the world, one buys icecream instead of slaves; watches and mass- produced trinkets and fizzy drinks instead of gold, silks and turquoise jewellery.    Few of the four hundred mosques remain and most hace canished without even leaving a trace.
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[ Last edited by zjdaniel on 2011-2-21 at 10:52 ]
5Â¥2011-02-21 10:20:59
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