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BlowingWind_IRL
LA NOSTRA MIGLIORE VENDETTA SARA' IL SORRISO DEI NOSTRI FIGLI
Female
Bisexual 
43 years old 
INISHMORE, ARAN ISLANDS, State N/A 
IE
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BlowingWind_IRL is the cumslut of Miss.Jalinoor. She is my Sperm Dispenser.
Last Profile Login: 12/12/2024
Last World Login: 12/12/2024
Member Since: 6/6/2009
General Info
I Am Here For: To remind people to mind to their own fucking business
Marital Status: Happily Married
Children: Eventually
Education: Post Grad
Religion: Wiccan
Smoke: No
Drink: Yes
Occupation: Bounty Killer - Born To Fuck Your Ass
Body Type: Slim / Slender
Height: 5' 10"
Ethnicity: White / Caucasian
Languages: French, Italian, English, Spanish, Aramaic, Farsi, Ancient Greek, Latin, Urdu, Kazako, Gaelic, Breton, Quenya, Swaili, Thai, Arabic
Sexy Stuff
I Am Looking For: Cinderella, I wanna screw her ass. Did you see her?
Sexual Fantasies: Domination, To screw someone with a M60 fully loaded in his/her/it ass
Sex is Best: On a very comfortable bed
Cybersex: Yes
I Want You To: Stay doggy
Cybersex Personality: Dominating, Aggressive, Wild, I am an ass screwing machine
My Web Gifts

A gift from uname

Note:
Content:
Sent 12/12/2012
BlowingWind_IRL's Scoop
About me:


Who I'd like to meet:

Alexandra-Mairie Aibhilin Noor Wind

UNITED ARAB EMIRATES
ABU DHABI - DUBAI


NOORWIND RADIO'60s AL SHAMS AL ARAB

-... click the Radio ...-





WELCOME TO IRELAND AND SCOTLAND
BENVENUTI IN IRLANDA E SCOZIA












LET YOUR FAITH BE BIGGER THAN YOUR FEARS
... che la tua FEDE sia maggiore delle tue PAURE ...




GOD SAVE IRELAND

God save Ireland, said the heroes
God save Ireland, said they all
Whether on the scaffold high
Or the battlefield we die
Oh, what matter when for Erin dear we fall

High upon the gallows tree swung the noble hearted three
By the vengeful tyrant stricken in their bloom
But they met him face to face with the courage of their race
And they went with souls undaunted to their doom

Girt around with cruel foes, still their courage proudly rose, For they thought of hearts that loved them far and near; Of the millions true and brave o’er the ocean’s swelling wave, And the friends in holy Ireland ever dear.

Climbed they up the rugged stair, rang their voices out in prayer
Then with England's fatal cord around them cast
Close beside the gallows tree kissed like brothers lovingly
True to home and faith and freedom to the last

Never till the latest day shall the memory pass away
Of the gallant lives thus given for our land
But on the cause must go, amidst joy and weal and woe
Till we make our Isle a nation free and grand

God save Ireland, said the heroes
God save Ireland, said they all
Whether on the scaffold high
Or the battlefield we die
Oh, what matter when for Erin dear we fall.

“Dio Salvi l'Irlanda!” han detto gli eroi. “Dio Salvi l'Irlanda!” han detto tutti. Sia che moriamo sulle impalcature o sul campo di battaglia, che cosa importa quando cadiamo per la cara Erin! In alto sulla forca penzolano i tre nobili di cuore Colpiti nel fiore degli anni dal tiranno vendicativo; ma lo hanno fronteggiato faccia a faccia, col coraggio della loro razza, e hanno seguito il loro destino senza paura della morte.

Circondati da nemici crudeli, resistevano con coraggio, perché pensavano a coloro che, vicini e lontani, li amavano; ai milioni sinceri e coraggiosi che hanno solcato gli oceani, e agli amici nella Santa Irlanda tanto amata. Hanno salito la scala arrugginita, cantando le preghiere, fino ad avere al collo la corda fatale d'Inghilterra e sulla forca si sono baciati teneramente come fratelli, fedeli alla patria, alla fede e alla libertà fino alla fine.

La memoria non verrà cancellata fino al giorno del giudizio, delle vite coraggiose così donate per la patria; ma bisogna lottare per la causa, tra gioia e ferite e dolore, finchè non faremo della nostra Isola una grande Nazione libera. “Dio Salvi l'Irlanda!” han detto gli eroi.

“Dio Salvi l'Irlanda!” han detto tutti. Sia che moriamo sulle impalcature o sul campo di battaglia, che cosa importa quando cadiamo per la cara Erin!



May the road rise to meet you., may the wind be always at your back, may the sun shine warm upon your face and rains fall soft upon your fields. And until we meet again, may God hold you in the hollow of His hand.

Possa la strada sorgere e venirti incontro. Possa il vento essere sempre alle tue spalle. Possa il sole splendere caldo sul tuo viso E la pioggia cadere piano sui tuoi campi. Possa il sole rendere brillanti i tuoi giorni, e le stelle illuminare le tue notti; possano i fiori sbocciare sul tuo sentiero e la tua casa resistere alla tempesta. E fino al prossimo incontro possa Dio custodirti nel palmo della sua mano.










... questo noi sempre diremo, penseremo, affermeremo e respireremo. A questo noi attingeremo sempre e non dimenticheremo nulla di quanto abbiamo vissuto perché questo spazio di vita è penetrato così nel profondo della nostra carne e della nostra anima che ormai il dolore è una comica emozione che ci fa sorridere. (Wind)



CADREMO TUTTI, MORREMO TUTTI, MA NESSUNO POTRA` MAI FERMARE IL VENTO

LA NOSTRA VENDETTA SARA`IL SORRISO
DEI NOSTRI FIGLI


... per questo devo tornare ai miei tanti luoghi futuri, per incontrarmi con me stessa ed esaminarmi senza sosta, senz’altro testimone che la luna, e poi fischiare di gioia, calpestando pietre e zolle, senz’altro compito che esistere, senz’altra famiglia che la strada. (Wind)






REMEMBER THE PRICE
HAS BEEN PAID
DONT ALLOW IT
TO BE FOR NOTHING



Down by the Salley Gardens, my love and I did meet. She passed the Salley Gardens with little snow-white feet. She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree, but I being young and foolish with her did not agree.

In a field by the river, my love and I did stand, And on my leaning shoulder, she placed her snow-white hand. She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs, but I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.

Down by the Salley Garden, my love and I did meet.

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I am sailing, I am sailing, home again 'cross the sea: I am sailing stormy waters, to be near you, to be free. I am flying, I am flying, like a bird 'cross the sky: I am flying, passing high clouds, to be near you, to be free.

Can you hear me, can you hear me, through the dark night far away: I am dying, forever crying, to be near you, who can say. We are sailing, we are sailing, home again, 'cross the sea. We are sailing, stormy waters, to be near you, to be free


PLAYLIST DEL GIORNO
DEDICATA A VOI, CON AMORE

WITH LOVE, FROM ME TO YOU

SE TI PIACE QUESTA PLAYLIST E TI TIENE COMPAGNIA
REGALAMI UN COMMENTO

SHOULD YOU ENJOY THE PLAYLIST
PLEASE GIFT ME WITH A COMMENT

THANK YOU


Irish Club by asterixyes on Grooveshark


The Star of
County Down


Near Banbridge town, in the County Down one morning in July down a boreen green came a sweet colleen and she smiled as she passed me by. She looked so sweet from her two white feet to the sheen of her nut-brown hair, such a coaxing elf, I'd to shake myself to make sure I was standing there.

From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay and from Galway to Dublin town No maid I've seen like the sweet colleen that I met in the County Down.

As she onward sped I shook my head and I gazed with a feeling rare and I said, says I, to a passerby "Who's the maid with the nut-brown hair?" He smiled at me, and with pride says he,"That's the gem of Ireland's crown. She's young Rosie McCann from the banks of the Bann she's the star of the County Down."

From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay and from Galway to Dublin town No maid I've seen like the sweet colleen that I met in the County Down.

I've travelled a bit, but never was hit since my roving career began, but fair and square I surrendered there to the charms of young Rose McCann. I'd a heart to let and no tenant yet did I meet with in shawl or gown but in she went and I asked no rent from the star of the County Down.

From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay and from Galway to Dublin town No maid I've seen like the sweet colleen that I met in the County Down.

At the crossroads fair I'll be surely there and I'll dress in my Sunday clothes, and I'll try sheep's eyes, and deludhering lies on the heart of the nut-brown rose. No pipe I'll smoke, no horse I'll yoke though with rust my plow turns brown till a smiling bride by my own fireside sits the star of the County Down.

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Il m'a fait renouncer au corps,
il n'a pas finì d'ennuyer;
l'univers est brulee de man chagrin,
elle ne prendrà pas flamme, la lumiere de mon destin?



HEY MR.TAMBOURINE MAN PLAY
A SONG FOR ME
I AM NOT SPLEEPY
AND THERE IS NO PLACE
I AM GOING TO


My Favorite Websites:
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Music:


Movies:





BARBARA ALLEN

It fell about a Martinmas time, when the green leaves were a-fallin, that Sir John from the West country fell in love wi Bawbie Allen. He sent his men down through the town to the place where she was dwallin, "O haste an' come to my master dear, gin ye be Bawbie Allan."

O hooly, hooly rase she up till she cam where he was lyin, an' when she drew the curtains roun said, "Young man, I think ye’re dyin." "I am sick an' very very sick, an it’s a’ for Bawbie Allan." "But the better for me ye never shall be though your heart's blood were a-spillin". "O don't you mind, young man", she said, "When in the tavern callin, ye made the toasts gang roun an' roun, but ye slighted Bawbie Allan." "A kiss o you would do me good, by bonnie Bawbie Allan." "But o kiss o me ye sanna get, though your heart's blood were a-spillin."

He's turned his face untae the wa’, for death was wi him dealin, said, "Fare ye weel, my kind friends a', but be kind to Bawbie Allan. "Put in your han' at my bedside, an' there ye’ll find a warran', a napkin full o my heart's blood, gie that to Bawbie Allan."

Slowly, slowly, rase she up an slowly, slowly, left him, an' sighin said she could not stay since death o life had reft him. She hadna gane a mile but ane, when she heard the dead bell knellin, an' ilka toll that the dead bell gae said, Woe to Bawbie Allan.

In them cam her father dear, said, "Bonie Bawbie, tak him." "It's time to bid me tak him noo when ye know his coffin's makin." In then cam her brother dear, said, "Bonie Bawbie, tak him." "It's time to bid tak him noo, when his grave-claes is a-makin." Then in cam her sisters dear, said, "Bonie Bawbie, tak him." "It's time to bid me tak him noo, Whan my heart it is a-brakin."

"O mother dear, o mak my bed, an' mak it saft an'’ narrow; my love has died for me to-day, I’ll die for him to-morrow. O father deir, o mak my bed, an' mak it saft an narrow; my luve has dyed for me to-day, an I will dye o' sorrow."

Barb’ry Allen was buried in the old church-yard, sweet John was buried beside her, out of sweet John’s heart there grew a rose, out of Barb’ry Allen's, a briar.

They grew an grew in the old church-yard, till they could grew no higher; at the end they form’d a true-lover’s knot and the rose grew ’round the briar.




Books:


Cet amour, si violent, si fragiles, si tendre, si désespéré. Cet amour, beau comme le jour et mauvais comme le temps quand le temps est mauvais. Cet amour si vrai, cet amour si beau, si heureux, si joyeux et si dérisoire, tremblant de peur comme un enfant dans le noir et si sûr de lui comme un homme tranquille au millieu de la nuit. Cet amour qu faisait peur aux autres qui les faisait parler, qui les faisait blêmir.

Cet amour guetté parce que nous le guettions, traqué blessé piétiné achevé nié oublié, parce que nous l’avons traqué blessé piétiné achevé nié oublié. Cet amour tout entier, si vivant encore et tout ensoleillé, c’est le tien, c’est le mien, celui qui a été cette chose toujours nouvelle et qui n’a pas changé. Aussi vrai qu’une plante, aussi tremblante qu’un oiseau, aussi chaude aussi vivant que l’été. Nous pouvons tous les deux, aller et revenir, nous pouvons oublier et puis nous rendormir, nous réveiller souffrir vieillir, nous endormir encore, rêver à la mort, nous éveiller sourire et rire et rajeunir.

Notre amour reste là, têtu comme une bourrique, vivant comme le désir, cruel comme la mémoire, bête comme les regrets, tendre comme le souvenir, froid comme le marble, beau comme le jour, fragile comme un enfant. Il nous regarde en souriant, et il nous parle sans rien dire, et moi je l’écoute en tremblant. Et je crie, je crie pour toi, Je crie pour moi, je te supplie pour toi pour moi et pour tous ceux qui s’aiment et qui se sont aimés. Oui je lui crie pour toi pour moi et pour tous les autres que je ne connais pas. Reste là, lá où tu es, lá où tu étais autrefois. Reste là, ne bouge pas, ne t’en va pas, nous qui sommes aimés, nous t’avons oublié, toi ne nous oublie pas.

Nous n’avions que toi sur la terre, ne nous laisse pas devenir froids beaucoup plus loin toujours. Et n’importe où donne-nous signe de vie beaucoup plus tard au coin d’un bois dans la forêt de la mémoire, surgis soudain tends-nous la main et sauve-nous.




 

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