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Lyrkit pik

Hallo! Ik ben Lirkit!

Ik heb veel manieren geprobeerd om Engelse woorden te onthouden en vond de meest effectieve voor mij!

We hebben alle woorden van de liedjes die we ons hele leven hebben gehoord al in ons geheugen. We hebben er simpelweg geen aandacht aan besteed, maar we horen ze allemaal al!

Ik merkte dat wanneer je een nieuw woord leert uit een liedje dat je al eerder hebt gehoord, je de vertaling van dit woord al voor altijd kent en je het nooit zult vergeten!

Deze methode wil ik met je delen. Het schema is dus als volgt.

We vinden liedjes die we al gehoord hebben.

We voegen alle onbekende woorden ervan toe.

We slagen voor minitests van geheugenspellen. klaar

Nu je veel woorden kent, zul je heel snel de hele taal leren kennen!

Ik wed dat je verrast zult zijn hoe effectief deze methode is!)

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Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Mary Chapin Carpenter

Family Hands

 

Family Hands

(album: Hometown Girl - 1987)


Last Sunday we got in the car and we drove
To the town you were raised in, your boyhood home
The trees were just turning, up on the ridge
And this was your valley when you were a kid
You showed me the railroad that your daddy worked on
As we neared the old house where your granny lives on
She's nearing ninety years now, with her daughters by her side
Who tend the places in the heart where loneliness can hide

Raised by the women who are stronger than you know
A patchwork quilt of memory only women could have sewn
The threads were stitched by family hands, protected from the moth
By your mother...and her mother, the weavers of your cloth

Your grandmother owned a gun in 1932
When times were bad just everywhere, you said she used it too
And the life and times of everyone are traced inside their palms
Her skin may be so weathered, but her grip is still so strong
And I see your eyes belong to her and too your mama too
A slice of Virginia sky, the clearest shade of blue

Raised by the women who are stronger than you know
A patchwork quilt of memory only women could have sewn
The threads were stitched by family hands, protected from the moth
By your mother...and her mother, the weavers of your cloth

And a rich man you might never be, they'd love you just the same
They've handed down so much to you besides your Christian name
And the spoken word won't heal you like the laying on of hands
Belonging to the ones who raised you to a man

Raised by the women who are stronger than you know
A patchwork quilt of memory only women could have sewn
The threads were stitched by family hands, protected from the moth
By your mother...and her mother, the weavers of your cloth

klaar

Heb je alle onbekende woorden uit dit nummer toegevoegd?