In the imperfait, reflexive verbs take être as their auxiliary verb; consequently the past participle needs to agree with the subject, as with other être verbs.
Je me suis dit - I told myself.
But compare the ordinary use of imperfait with a non-être verb:
Elle est l'épouse de Nicolas Sarkozy, Président de la France.
Lyrics
On me dit que nos vies ne valent pas grand chose,
Elles passent en un instant comme fanent les roses.
On me dit que le temps qui glisse est un salaud
que de nos chagrins il s'en fait des manteaux
pourtant quelqu'un m'a dit...
Someone tells me that our life is not worth much,
It passes in an instant as the rose fades.
Someone tells me that the passing time is a bastard
as our sorrows, he makes coats (???)
But someone told me ...
Refrain
Que tu m'aimais encore,
C'est quelqu'un qui m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore.
Serais ce possible alors ?
That you still loved me
Someone told me that you still loved me.
Could that be possible?
On me dit que le destin se moque bien de nous
Qu'il ne nous donne rien et qu'il nous promet tout
Parais qu'le bonheur est à portée de main,
Alors on tend la main et on se retrouve fou
Pourtant quelqu'un m'a dit ...
They tell me that destiny makes fun of us
It gives us nothing and promises us everything
That happiness is within reach,
So we reach out, and we find ourselves crazy
While someone told me ..
Refrain
Mais qui est ce qui m'a dit que toujours tu m'aimais?
Je ne me souviens plus c'était tard dans la nuit,
J'entend encore la voix, mais je ne vois plus les traits
"Il vous aime, c'est secret, lui dites pas que j'vous l'ai dit"
Tu vois quelqu'un m'a dit...
But who is it that told me that you still loved me?
I don't remember any more if it was late at night,
I still hear the voice, but I do not see the face
"He loves you, it is a secret, and do not tell him that I told you"
You see someone told me ...
Que tu m'aimais encore, me l'a t'on vraiment dit...
Que tu m'aimais encore, serais ce possible alors ?
That you still loved me someone truly said ...
That you still loved me, could this be?
Vevo has better videos than I do. Vevo is an online music video website developed and hosted by YouTube, Sony, and Google. I am obsolete or will be shortly.
I have a philosophy Be accepted as I am Despite all that is said I still raise a fist For better or worse I am Mestisos not a martyr I walk inside the light But always raise a fist
Raise my head, shake my body Constantly redouble efforts Life does not give me a choice I'm the ace that beats king Despite our troubles, our differences And all these incessant insults I will raise my fist Even higher, further
(Refrain:) Targeting the Moon It does not scare me Even wear I still believe and heart Sacrifices If necessary I will do it I have already done it But always raise my fist
I'm not like all these girls As they stare, as they undress I have shapes and curves It is used to warm the hearts The daughter of a popular neighborhood I learned to be proud Much more love than misery Although most of that heart of stone
I have a philosophy Be accepted as I am With the strength and smile The fist raised towards the future Raise the head, torso bomber Constantly redouble efforts Life does not give me choice I'm the ace who beats the king
When he wrote Life on the Mississippi in 1876, Mark Twain was not an old man. At the age of 41, he was not even fully mature.`But his memoir of his days on the Mississippi as a river boat captain were the musings of one who knew life. Someone who, in his own words, had "mastered the language of the water [the Mississippi] and had come to know every trifling feature that bordered the great river as familiarly as I knew the letters of the alphabet..."
Age brings both wisdom and sadness. A sadness that professionalism eliminates a youthful sense of wonder at the newness of the world and all its mysteries. For Mark Twain the grace, beauty, and poetry of the river became currents, depths and weather. And his loss was the loss of marveling at sunset at seeing colors of sun and water - reflections, golden hues turning red, sparkling eddies dancing like so many ballerinas, waves fanning out in radiating lines and circles. With time and knowledge, sun and water become a banal sign there would be wind tomorrow.
Twain wondered, as I often have, whether we who learn a trade gain or lose more in the bargain. Love which in its youth is a burning flame becomes a faint and dying ember.
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