Vocaroo thread lads. Have fun.
"O homem que diz dou
Não dá!
Porque quem dá mesmo
Não diz!
O homem que diz vou
Não vai!
Porque quando foi
Já não quis!
O homem que diz sou
Não é!
Porque quem é mesmo é
Não sou!
O homem que diz tou
Não tá
Porque ninguém tá
Quando quer
Coitado do homem que cai
No canto de Ossanha
Traidor!
Coitado do homem que vai
Atrás de mandinga de amor"
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helo
wher is lithuianiuna
plz maek
voic
Nice thread you have here, lad.
I need this thread. I haven't said anything in four days. Somebody please post English or French.
As down the Glen one Easter morn to a city fair rode I
There armed lines of marching men, in squadrons pass me by
No pipes did hum, no battle drum, did sound it's loud tattoo
But the Angelus bell o'er the Liffy swell, rang out in the foggy dew
Some Norwegian perhaps?
Based slovak
We're no awa' tae bide awa'
We're no awa' tae le'e ye
We're no awa' tae bide awa'
We'll aye come back an' see ya
Good lad
>no pipes did ham
Gave me a chuckle
i thought i would be fun
Nordmenn er for lite i aktivitet, og spiser for mye. Vi er i ferd med å bli et svært så tungt folkeferd, i likhet med store deler av verdens befolkning.
I 1980 var 44 prosent av oss nordmenn overvektige. I dag, 30 år senere, er over halvparten, eller 53 prosent overvektige.
>yank
Did not expect
It's common for Norwegians to speak with an American accent, because that's what we're exposed to in the media.
Ahh well your American accent is very convincing
What is this, even?
vocaroo.com
Thanks!
Encore un truculent spectacle à ne louper à aucun prix. Le départ du " Normandie " de New-York. " Normandie " ! triomphe de nos contributions, le plus crâneur de nos déficits. Sur trois mille passagers au moins 2500 Juifs. A nous Aryens " assujettis " du génie français tout le déficit ! On est des gaillards prestigieux, des vicieux de la folle ceinture. Aux rats juifs du monde entier les prélassements inédits, les vogues les plus exorbitantes, le caviar à la louche de nos centimes additionnels. C'est plus de la passion c'est de la vraie furie youtrisme pour grimper, grouiller sur ce bord...
also requesting something in scots
it will be insult on french
vocaroo.com
Sounds like you're speaking in tongues, lad.
It sounds weird, but generally understandable. Just a few pointers here, if you want them.
svært så tungt - The "æ" in "svært" is long.
likhet - Sounds weird, you need to pronounce the t at the end.
tretti år senere - I think you need to enunciate this more. It's hard to understand what you're saying. And it's senere with an "s", not with an "sj-".
what does that mean?
You are portuguese, that's cheating ;__;
Cheers, vocaroo.com
Shut the fuck up.
Honestly sounds really good.
Yeah, that's better in my opinion. I didn't mean to be rude earlier, by the way. I was just trying to give constructive criticism. And the other Norwegian seems to disagree with me, so maybe it was good from the start, I don't know.
It was hardly insulting. Plus feedback is always very appreciated.
How about some singing? Du Gamla Du Fria please.
Bump
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
Whatever, I'll bump.
I am in need of music that would flow
Over my fretful, feeling fingertips,
Over my bitter-tainted, trembling lips,
With melody, deep, clear, and liquid-slow.
Oh, for the healing swaying, old and low,
Of some song sung to rest the tired dead,
A song to fall like water on my head,
And over quivering limbs, dream flushed to glow!
There is a magic made by melody:
A spell of rest, and quiet breath, and cool
Heart, that sinks through fading colors deep
To the subaqueous stillness of the sea,
And floats forever in a moon-green pool,
Held in the arms of rhythm and of sleep.