DSC02368 – Frederic Gate

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DSC02368 – Frederic Gate
Naturally Speaking
Image by archer10 (Dennis) REPOSTING
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Through this ornate arch (Frederic Gate) that dominates your view down the Rue Toulouse came most of the people, news and merchandise of the colony. Orders from the king arrived here – the gate’s name honours the royal minister who managed France’s colonies and navy. So important an entrance naturally reflected Bourbon majesty in its proud bulk and careful proportions. Construction of the gate in 1742 completed Louisbourg’s circle of fortifications on the eve of war.

Most large ships anchored offshore. The crews launched boats and then pushed and carried their cargo over the wharf and through the narrow gateway. The sailors who landed here represented a score of ports. On a busy sum mer’s day you might have heard them speaking French, English, Portuguese, Basque and Breton, joined by the German of the Swiss troops and the Mi"kmaw of the native people. Business houses, inns and taverns made the quay a gathering place for townspeople as well as mariners. Idling or going about your business here, you would see public announcements, auctions and even punishment of criminals.

mannequin’s dreams • sueños de maniquí
Naturally Speaking
Image by jesuscm
Allí estaba, como todos los días, arregladita como para ir de boda (o a las carreras de Ascot), viviendo su sueño de contemplar el mundo a traves de un escaparate de Harrods. Se había preparado desde pequeña para ello, desde que naciera en la mejor fábrica de dummies del país. Después vinieron el aprendizaje en pequeñas boutiques y talleres de modista, los periodos interminables de descanso en almacenes polvorientos y, por fin, la gran oportunidad. Un joven escaparatista cruzó su mirada con la suya y se la llevo con él hasta Knightsbridge. En un primer momento no sabía donde estaba, pero al cruzar salas y salas lujosamente decoradas reconoció en ellas el Xanadú de los grandes almacenes, aquel del que tanto hablaban las viejas maniquies a la hora del té. Estaba en Harrods y su sueño se había cumplido. Aunque no olvidaba que el amor de los hombres es voluble y que un día el escaparatista, y naturalmente los peatones que ante ella se detenían (algunos incluso le hacían fotos..descarados!) ya no sentirían la fascinación de hoy por su mirada y sus orquideas…Pero bueno, mañana será otro día!

There was, as every day, arranged like to go of wedding (or to Ascot’s races), living through her dream of contemplating the world across a shop window of Harrods. She had been prepared from childhood for it, since she was born in the best factory of dummies of the country. Later the learning in small boutiques and designer’s workshops, endless periods of rest in dusty warehouses and, finally, the great opportunity. A young window-dresser crossed his look with hers and took her with him up to Knightsbridge neighborhood. In the first moment she didn’t know where was, but on having crossed rooms and rooms, luxuriously decorate, she recognized in them the Xanadú of the department store, one they both spoke the old mannequins at teatime. She was in Harrods and her dream had been fulfilled. Though she didn’t forget that the love of the men is changeable and that one day the window-dresser, and naturally the pedestrians who were detaining before the shop window (some even took pictures to her) already they would not feel the today fascination for her look and her orchids… But good, tomorrow it will be another day!

Joan Manuel Serrat: "De Cartón Piedra"

[061/2013]

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