Traduction de «Winter blues » (Anglais → Français) :

winter blues [ seasonal affective disorder | sundowning syndrome | seasonal depression ]

seasonal affective disorder | winter blues | SAD [Abbr.]

seasonal affective disorder | SAD | winter blues

blue oat mite | grain spidermite | pea mite | red-legged earth mite | winter grain mite

common winter moth | European winter moth | small winter moth | winter moth

trypan blue [ azidine blue, 3 B | benzamine blue, 3 B | benzo blue | chlorazol blue | Congo blue, 3 B | diamine blue | dianil b H. 3G. | naphthamine blue, 3 B. X. | Niagara blue, 3 B. X. ]

winter range [ wintering range | wintering area | wintering ground | wintering territory ]

winter visitor | winter tourist | winter holidayer | winter holidaymaker | winter holiday-maker

winter aconite | winter-aconite | New-Year's gift | winter hellebore | Winter Wolf's Bane

blue-veined cheese [ blue cheese | Bresse blue | Danish blue | Roquefort | Stilton ]

goldfish swim in the brain Nature is the executioner the winter absorbs depth, devours the tadpoles of existence in the white pond of being goldfish swim under the ice the brain is irrelevant as snow the spaces dominate the galoshes of trudging thoughts of some powdery sand & green blue water the sun creeps along the horizon clinging to the slippers of its master: the moist tycoon of the gold fields of Sleep his teeth burn in the blue abyss of morning Reprinted with the permission of the author from Virgins & Vampires, Toronto, McClel ...[+++]land & Stewart, 1975.

I live in the heart of a lost country yet one I've never left I was born here I'll die here a country that is no more but follows me everywhere I'd like to get out which I couldn't do they'd like to drive me out which they couldn't do sometimes it's so small that despite its great river and its lakes it's no bigger than a teardrop and sometimes so huge it goes on forever I took possession of it at birth proud discoverer out of my mother's womb like a caravel come from far beyond La Rochelle a country like the one I built in my childhood on Lake Saint Pierre among the cattails and reeds I put down my roots in the soil of legends so that the tree of my life draws the sap of poetry there a country of summers where fire my friend comes down fro ...[+++]m the zenith to swim with me a country of autumns where my inner forests sang flames of all colors a northern country with frosty eyes ice storm suns burning on snow a country where big flakes of snow geese melted into the pure air of spring in my country we're so crazy for beauty that meadow flowers turn into swallows and fly off on feathers of blue fragrance so crazy with music the icicles on the eves sound like a glass keyboard under little mallets of cold so crazy with magic that we see trees in January turn into great snowy owls under their down of frost so crazy for love that we stroke the skin of days and every river is a naked woman smiling on a bed of light no one dies in my country at every family gathering some of my most distant ancestors even those from 1663 from St-François du Havre de Grâce turn up with their instruments and start dancing if it happens one day I lose my lost country I'll become like the haggard homeless man who on winter nights at the end of a blind alley among trash and garbage cans makes his only home a dirty cardboard box

What an unforgettable experience to be part of the thousands of volunteers, the blue jackets, who helped make the 2010 Winter Olympics the best games ever, and to witness first-hand the tidal wave of national pride that rose up and swept across our great nation.

In recognition of this end to the winter blues, the Vancouver AM Tourism Association has sent to each member of this esteemed House the gift of a golden daffodil and with it comes an open invitation to visit our fair city.