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Oversize [about 8. Fine copy. Educalingo cookies are used to personalize ads and get web traffic statistics. We also share information about the use of the site with our social media, advertising and analytics partners. Meaning of "cisterciense" in the Spanish dictionary. The definition of Cistercian in the Spanish dictionary belongs to or relates to the Cistercian Order, founded by San Roberto in the 11th century. Another meaning of Cistercian in the dictionary is also said of the religious of the Cistercian Order.
Synonyms and antonyms of cisterciense in the Spanish dictionary of synonyms. Examples of use in the Spanish literature, quotes and news about cisterciense. This is a reproduction of a book published before Roberto Mu Iz, Get married or paint pictures, unless you're a minimalist in all things. Take a shower: there's nowhere for the soap. Today I am not going to eat an apple, because this isn't an apple, just a picture of an apple. Today I am not going outside Birmingham.
Today I am not young any more. Today I am not as handsome as I used to think I was. Today I am not playing the piano. Mi silla apenas ha brotado del semillero. Mi AppleMac no es siquiera una propuesta inspiradora. Nuestro matrimonio no es para contemplarse. Y el mundo es un lugar menos temeroso. Esperar que los botones de mando digan lo que quieren o que quieran lo que dicen. Viajar con tu coro entero o tu club de rugby.
Hacer de la musiquilla un karaoke. Llevar a tu mascota a menos que sea diminuta. Casarse o pintar cuadros, a menos que seas minimalista en todo. Hoy no voy a comer una manzana, porque esto no es una manzana, solo la foto de una manzana.
Hoy no voy a salir de la ciudad. Hoy ya no soy tan joven. Hoy no soy tan guapo como antes pensaba. Hoy no toco el piano. Boh, depende. Unha bela adormecida esperta cando a chamas por un nome. Cada nome, un punto de cruz nun infindo lenzo de namorado. Temos un Trasmundi. E un Extramundi, ademais dun Aldemunde. E vales que levan o nome de Mar, Amor, Ouro ou Silenzo. E un Pico Sagro e unha Boca do Inferno. Para a ciencia, Lampyris nocticula. Eis, o estar e o andar. Quixera enviarche un vagalume. Moito mar. Case todo chegou e foise polo mar. Ao norte hai unha illa que chaman Irlanda.
Os vagalumes tenden a apagarse no interior. Van cara ao oeste, van en xunta na orla do mar. Agora son focos dunha grande cidade difusa. O espazo portuario como lugar e non lugar. Incubador de odiseas. Un gran porto onde os guindastres xa non cargan tristura. Unha grande aldea que orienta as casas cara ao mar, coa memoria sobre as coroas da cabeza. Body-art na pel da catastro-fermosura. Encrechar pedras eternas. Calquera parte do mundo pode ser o cu do mundo. Ese problema, o do transporte por estrada, resolveuse. Cando se explica, parece que o galego ten que loitar contra a idea de Galicia como terra remota.
Hai periferia e centro no universo? Quen somos, a onde imos, de onde vimos? Unha terra de chegada. Os romanos, que disque puxeron o nome: Gallaecia. Foron derrotados, claro, polos visigodos. Os xudeus. Os mouros. Os xitanos. Os maragatos. Como a cruz de Cristo. O primeiro texto escrito en galego de que se ten noticia agroma nun poema de autor provenzal: Rimbaud de Vaqueiras. Lembro unha conversa sobre a orixe da ponte nunha vila, recollida por Xurxo Souto.
Galicia foi pobo escollido polo Adeus. Galicia Venus, Galicia matria. Choran porque os outros da familia marchan. A terra como aldea global. E o inmigrante busca, en todas partes, pan e liberdade. Como fixo o galego. Galicia paradoxal. E polo traballo nos mares. Naceu nunha aldea, en Ourense.
Traballou de maleteiro no hotel Lisboa de Vigo. Polas noites estudou dereito. Exerceu de avogado. Logo fixo a carreira xudicial. A maior cidade de Galicia segue a ser Bos Aires. Quen dixo que os mortos eran de dereitas? Deixa que che conte a historia dun edema na pel.
Traballa duramente na limpeza. Vive a soidade. Na Rede hai un portal onde contactan fillos e netos de emigrantes galegos con diferentes experiencias www. Os galegos somos como nos ven os demais, e ao contrario. O que se ve no espello e o reverso.
Hai quen adoece cos chistes cando o seu xentilicio non sae ben parado. E que pasou? O pobre sae sempre mal parado. Predominaban apuntamentos tremendos. Pois ben. As estampas que deixou Borrow resultan xa remotas. Galicia nunca foi pobre. A xente, si. Surrealista e mais contraditorio. Para crear unha identidade hai xente que ten que escribir unha enciclopedia de cincuenta tomos ao longo de cincuenta anos. Ten momentos de euforia e de disforia. Na Galicia houbo bos ciclistas. Era un grande erudito.
Un sabio. Pero cando se lle presentou diante o Diabo non o soubo ver. Que xa aparece noutros dicionarios. Hai que tomala na dose xusta. Colgou ao galego cun sambenito de pobo tristeiro. E xa non parou de cantar deica a morte. Agora que o matino, hai moitos heroes na memoria sentimental do pobo que case non figuran nos libros. Morreu novo. Franco, o ditador, nacera en Galicia. Era de berce tan pobre que cando emigrou foi a andar deica Madrid. O anticaciquismo e o galeguismo ilustrado como escola de internacionalismo. A ollada dun humorismo que desvela o drama.
O xeito en que se exerce o poder, si. Galicia envellece. No campo e na cidade. Esta parte da sociedade xa semella retratada nun libro moi vello chamado Loanza da servidume. Considerouse unha ofensa. Amodo ho! E ademais, sen contar o Botafumeiro. Os economistas distinguen entre rendemento e riqueza, entre conta de resultados e activos. Son imaxinativos. Todo naceu nun pequeno obradoiro de costura. As costureiras. De marabilla.
Semella unha figura do pop-art, unha princesa da clase obreira. Hai outros casos que refliten que o problema do atraso de Galicia foi culpa do mal goberno. Pescanova e Zeltia. Pescanova foi pioneira na venda de peixe conxelado. En quen sempre creu o galego foi na vaca.
E pola loucura. Goza comendo, e sobre todo invitando a comer. E cumpriuno. E punto.
Baixou do barco. En Galicia hai A gaita soergueuse en todos os escenarios, colleulle o xeito a todos os estilos. A Galicia faille falta cine. Ou non? A historia de Galicia non se pode confundir coa do galeguismo, e menos coa do nacionalismo. Os ilustrados galeguistas comezaron moi ben. Como matriz. Como almeiro. Un mar de mares. Unha Galicia de memoria activa e non de souvenir, de memoria andante, aventureira, que exerza o humano dereito fundamental a imaxinar.
Por que non? O tempo! Conectamos cun vendeval en Ortegal! Cando chove e quenta o sol anda o demo por Ferrol! As marabillosas nubes! Entre os fiordos e Bora-Bora. O paraugas como antena paranoica. Parece que chove. It's comforting to have confirmation of Frank Drake's visionary equation concerning the calculation of the number of civilizations in the Milky Way. Here's to Drake! And here's to the future! It's been pretty useful that I met a guy who was willing to teach me the basics of radio astronomy.
He was working as a cleaner in the enormous radar facility in the University of Cornell. The planet is called Earth. Galicia is my land on Earth. Although Galicia is and at the same time isn't in Galicia. As a place, Galicia is small. Well, that depends. It's big enough. I suppose by now you have realised that we Galicians are often known as being somewhat indecisive, arbitrary and vague, something which you will probably notice in the rest of my letter. Galicia is in the western part of Europe, in the Iberian Peninsula. With its own political assembly, it forms part of Spain and is perched on top of Portugal.
Do you guys have intergalactic passports? Galicians like to name things. We like giving things names so that those things can exist and talk. In the same way as Buddhists, Galicians know that stones only speak to us if they are given a name. A sleeping beauty awakes when one calls her by a name. The land of Galicia, from the mountains in the East to the shores of the deep ocean in the West, is like an illuminated manuscript with no empty gaps in the margins. Our toponyms make up our literary masterpiece. The lyrics of a cosmic hip-hop. Each name is a loving stitch in an infinite piece of patchwork.
In standard speech we use three thousand to five thousand words. Only in terms of centres of population there are , place names in Galicia, which is half of those registered in the whole of Spain. And this doesn't even include the bars, wineries, inns and taverns which constitute a virtual map of the world, an unfinished piece of artistic creation in the wake of returning emigrants.
This explains how, when on a pub crawl through a typical Galician town, say Vimianzo, one can go from the London to the Montevideo and from here to the Zurich and from the Zurich to the Happy Day from where you can go to the Hilton before ending up in the Fast Lane. He treats his clients like intellectuals, regardless of what their professions may be. If you ever turn up there one day with your pointy ears, your turquoise skin and your fish-like eyes with wide-angle lenses, Manuel de Ricardo wouldn't flinch at all.
As a present via radio astronomy, I'd like to send you some of our intergalactic village names translated into English. Here, the living being with the most names is the firefly, with the scientific name of Lampyris nocticula.
About this Item: Siruela, Como ejemplos tenemos las situaciones de andar sobre terrenos duros, en pendientes de nieve o hierba, por zonas densas de matorral, y por pedregales y taludes. Share your thoughts with other customers. Right now I can see the photo I have of my Aunt Manola, carrying her portable sewing machine on her head. Eugenio Vegas Latapie. Con todos las comodidades y servicios que podemos encontrar en nuestra casa. Traditionalism has never exercised major influence among the Spanish governmental strata, yet periodically it was capable of mass mobilization and at times partially filtered into the ruling practice.
There are nearly one hundred synonyms in Galician! The firefly is a real shining star in Galician pop culture. Some of its names are truly amazing, all of them metaphors. Here are their literal English translations: old lady of the soup, light-in-bum, night worm, fanny-colour It emits light at all stages of its development, even when just an egg. The luminosity is especially intense in the female though. And a path paved with fireflies through the fertile gardens of your kingdom. So there you have it.
Existence and movement. You know, I would like to send you a firefly. When seen from above, and with a decrease in intergalactic distance, Galicia can seem like a congregation of fireflies. We can see those quarter of a million population centres, cities, towns, villages and hamlets, all showing a meticulous human intervention in a landscape of slate, stone, greenness and sea.
A lot of sea. Galicia has, as a crude estimate, a surface area of 30, square kilometres and a coastline of 1, kilometres. Galicia has an indomitable sea which climbs over steep sea stacks, a sea which seeps inland through veins in the earth. Our finest highway. Almost everything that came to these shores came and went by sea.
To the north there is an island they call Ireland. Opposite, there is a large continent called America. The fireflies tend to wane as one moves inland. It's an extinction which is caused by pesticides and is very real, but it's also symbolic. On the paths which lead inland, man-made illumination also fades away.
It is shifting westwards, the lights grouping together on the edge of the ocean. The Galicia of old is losing population. Now they are focal points for one giant, scattered city.
This is not science fiction. In no time at all we will see the emergence of a city, similar to a New Atlantis to make it sound somewhat more legendary , which will spread itself from Ferrol to Porto. A new human geography is being laced together. More than a sudden power-cut, we observe a kind of withering, a lung failure which is suffocating the ancient cosmos of an agrarian society.
It can bring about comparisons, fusions and creations, with the harbour area serving as both a place and a non-place, as a breeding ground for new odysseys. One giant port where the cranes are no longer burdened with sadness. One giant village which turns the houses towards the sea, with memories borne upon bare heads. North Atlantic Mediterranean. Changeable climate, changeable Galicia. Along a winding road a turbocharged car overtakes a tractor which overtakes an old cart. Industrial archaeology. Fashionably unsightly architecture. An ethnographic museum. Waves which come, small waves which come and go.
Beginning over again. An ironic twist of fate as the region fights against those who tell us that all hope is lost. Any part of the world can be its backside. It just depends. There are days and there are days. There are good centuries and bad centuries. Here I am with my typical Galician indecisiveness again! For a long time, Galicia was considered the end of the world by many Mediterranean civilizations.
It was here that everything ended, apart from those who lived in Fisterra, who believed the headland to be the jetty from where one would begin their journey to the Afterworld. It is said that Julius Caesar, the leader of the Great Roman Empire, came to the Galician Far West to see the smouldering sun sinking into the vast ocean furnace, etcetera. That Empire has long since disappeared, but Galicia still remains. Here, with its jetty, its legendary lighthouse, a foghorn which bellows like a cow into the sea mist, and its avant-garde cemetery on the headland.
Nowadays, Galicia is and isn't like the Far West. It took him eighteen days to get there and back. Fortunately, this difficulty with transport by road has now been solved, though the solution to the region's poor rail connections is still pending. On Galician news programmes and in newspapers, the trains are talked about in the same way as they were talked about in 19th century California.
This also aids those who like to compare Galicia to the Far West. Distance though, as you know very well, is very subjective. Is there a centre and a periphery in the Universe as a whole? I guess that this is an idea based on power relations. There are 2. In apple trees alone, we have seventy-seven different varieties. Who are we? Where are we headed? Where did we come from?
All good questions, and questions which make up the name of a song by the shrewdest of 20th century Spanish rock groups, the Galician band of Siniestro Total. The Celts. Then there were the Romans, who were said to have given Galicia its name: Gallaecia. Then the Britons of Maeloc. The latter were, of course, defeated by the Visigoths. Then came the Jews. Then the Moors. Then the Gypsies. Then the Maragatos. In the 18th century, it was the Catalans who gave a boost to the fishing industry, and the Basques who did the same for the tanneries.
Without a doubt though, the most famous of our aliens is the Apostle of St James, a Palestinian fisherman and disciple of Jesus Christ who I already told you about in my first message to you. The finding of his sarcophagus brought about for religious reasons the world's first grand sightseeing tour, the Way of St James. In the same way as the cross of Christ.
History can be so twisted and cruel sometimes! In addition to the pilgrims who came, others who made their home here included Franks, the Flemish, and people from Genoa and Provence It's odd, but the first text written in Galician which can be accounted for actually has its roots in a poem written by a man from Provence, Rimbaud de Vaqueiras.
It's a poem about love. History can get incredibly mixed up. Incredibly so. It gets reinvented until it becomes nonsensical. St James, the Palestinian who was decapitated under Roman rule, has been turned into the patron saint of Spain and chief slayer of Muslims by our modern powers that be.