Question

Помогите перевести,словарик ибо плохо работает When grandma was little, there was nothing. I go to the kitchen and pointing at the microwave: - But was it? "No," says grandma. At the toaster. - No. On a gas stove. - No. For a mixer. - No. I point to the fridge. - No. On the chandelier. - No. When I was little, we had a kerosene lamp. The contrary was it cleaned. Worse than the pot to wash. And then stretched the wire and lit up the light bulb. But the chandeliers were not. We go into the room. Computer. - No. TV. - No. Wardrobe. - No. The bed was? - I - no, - replied grandma. - How so? - I do not understand. How do you live when you have nothing! As I will about you an essay to write? - You sleep with someone, says grandma, a former teacher of Russian language and literature. I shake my head. I'm almost a straight a student, who I write off? If only... - Grandma d! happily I cry. - You're in essay writing when in school. The school that you had? Grandma agrees. School was something. And grandma was a straight a student like me. She is the first from the village graduated from University and returned to their home school to be a teacher. Then we have to go to the village to climb into the attic and look for my writings, - said the grandmother, if I have them in paper did not pass. Well, Yes, computers did not exist before, everything was stored in the attic. I don't mind. I love the grandmother's village. There are two rivers and mountains, and the strawberry grows on the mountains and the gardens - honey apples, transparent, glowing like a star. And the stars there are! The size of large apples. In such will never see. But grandma's village far in the Altai region, among the school year will not go. - It is necessary to remember, - strictly I said. - You don't want I couple got. - Too late, excuses grandma. - I'm going to cook pies. Grandma is always something to do. "Man to die, get ready, and zemelku Pasha" - I hate when she says so. - And pies-what on earth was when you were little? - I ask. The pies were. Along with my grandmother going to cook the pies in the Granny. Otherwise, I will elicit what to write in essay. Of course, really, grandma, pie will not work. All you need is milk from real cows that spent the whole day walking in the meadow. And fresh eggs from happy free chickens and not from the whole life sitting in a cage. And wheat flour, over which shone hlebosol. Hlebosol - it's so bright-bright silent storm. They sparkle over the fields when the wheat ripens. Very nice. And need a real stove - no microwave / oven can't replace the stove. Need grandma's village to get grandma's pies.

Answer 1

АнглийскийТранслитерировать

Когда бабушка была маленькой, не было ничего. Я иду на кухню и, указывая на микроволновой печи:

- Но это был?

"Нет", говорит бабушка.

В тостере.

- Нет.

На газовой плите.

- Нет.

Для смесителя.

- Нет.

Я указываю на холодильник.

- Нет.

На люстре.

- Нет, когда я был маленьким, у нас была керосиновая лампа. Противоположная это был очищен. Хуже, чем горшок мыть. А затем вытягивают проволоку и закурил лампочки. Но люстры не было.

Мы идем в комнату.

Компьютер.

- Нет.

ТВ.

- Нет.

Гардероб.

- Нет.

Кровать была?

- Я - нет, - ответил бабушку.

- Как так? - Я не понимаю. Как вы живете, когда у вас нет ничего! Как я буду о тебе эссе писать?

- Ты спишь с кем-то, говорит бабушка, бывший учитель русского языка и литературы.

Я качаю головой. Я почти прямой студент, который я списывать? Если только...

- Бабушка d! счастливо я плачу. - Вы в эссе, когда в школе. В школе, что у вас было?

Бабушка соглашается. Школа было что-то. А бабушка была прямой студент, как я. Она является первой из деревни закончил университет и вернулся в свою родную школу, чтобы стать учителем.

Тогда мы должны пойти в деревню, чтобы подняться на чердак и смотреть на мои сочинения, - сказала бабушка, если я их в бумаге не передать.

Ну, да, компьютеры не существовало раньше, все было хранится на чердаке. Я не возражаю. Я люблю деревню бабушки. Есть две реки и горы, и клубника растет на горы и сады - мед яблоки, прозрачный, светящийся, как звезда. И звезды есть! Размер больших яблок. В таких никогда не увидит. Но деревня бабушкин далеко в Алтайском крае, в том числе учебного года не будет идти.

- Необходимо помнить, - строго сказал я. - Вы не хотите, я пара получила.

- Слишком поздно, отговорки бабка. - Я собираюсь приготовить пирожки.

Бабушка всегда что-то делать. "Человек, чтобы умереть, готовьтесь и zemelku Паша" - Я ненавижу, когда она так говорит.

- И пирожки-то, что на земле было, когда вы были маленьким? - Я спрашиваю.

Пироги были. Наряду с моя бабушка собирается готовить пирожки в Бабушке. В противном случае, я буду вызывать, что писать в эссе.

Конечно же, на самом деле, бабушка, пирог не будет работать. Все, что вам нужно, это молоко от реальных коров, которые провели целый день, идя на лугу. И свежие яйца от счастливых свободных кур, а не от всей жизни, сидя в клетке. И пшеничная мука, над которой светились hlebosol. Hlebosol - это настолько ярко-ярко молчать шторм. Они сверкают над полями, когда созревает пшеница. Очень хорошо. И нужна настоящая печь - нет СВЧ / печь не может заменить печь. Нужно село бабушкин, чтобы получить пирожки бабушки.

Answer 2

When Grandma was little, she had none of the modern conveniences we have today. As I walk into the kitchen and point at the microwave, I ask, "But did you have this?" Grandma shakes her head and replies, "No." I then point at the toaster, the gas stove, the mixer, and the fridge, but Grandma's answer remains the same - "No." Finally, I point at the chandelier, but again, Grandma says, "No." She explains, "When I was little, we had a kerosene lamp. Cleaning it was even worse than washing a pot. We would stretch a wire and light up the light bulb, but we didn't have chandeliers."

Curious, we walk into the room and I start guessing if Grandma had a computer, a TV, or a wardrobe. But the answer is always "No." I then ask if she had a bed, to which Grandma replies, "No." I can't comprehend how she lived with nothing. I ask her how I can write an essay about her, and she replies with a mischievous smile, "You sleep with someone." Grandma used to be a teacher of Russian language and literature, and she suggests that I can write off someone else's work. I shake my head, proudly stating that I am an almost straight-A student. Who would I copy from?

Suddenly, Grandma bursts out laughing and says, "You're writing an essay for school. Which school did you go to?" I confirm, and Grandma agrees, saying that school was something. She reveals that she was also a straight-A student like me. She was the first person from her village to graduate from university and then returned to her hometown to become a teacher. She suggests that we go to the village and search the attic for her writings, in case they haven't turned to dust.

I don't mind going to Grandma's village. It's a beautiful place with two rivers, mountains, and strawberries growing on the mountains. The gardens are filled with honey apples that are transparent and glowing like stars. And the stars in the sky are enormous, like large apples. Such a sight can never be seen anywhere else. However, Grandma's village is far away in the Altai region, so we can't go during the school year.

I sternly tell Grandma that we must remember these stories, but she brushes it off, saying it's too late. She has pies to bake. Grandma always has something to do. I dislike it when she says, "Man to die, get ready, and zemelku Pasha." And speaking of pies, I ask Grandma if they existed when she was little. She confirms that they did. She would go to her Granny's house to bake pies, or else she would have nothing to write about in her essay.

But of course, Grandma's pies were special. To make them, you needed milk from real cows that spent the whole day grazing in the meadow. You needed fresh eggs from happy, free chickens, not from those that lived their whole lives in cages. And you needed wheat flour that glistened with hlebosol, a bright and silent storm. Hlebosol sparkled over the fields when the wheat ripened. It was a truly enchanting sight. And to bake these pies, you needed a real stove. No microwave or oven could replace the warmth and magic of a traditional stove. To truly taste Grandma's pies, you had to experience her village and all its wonders.