Call For Papers

The Fifth Conference

on

Issues in English Language Teaching in Iran

(IELTI  5) 

Department of English Language and Literature

Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures

University of Tehran

Aban 14-15, 1388  (Nobember 5-6, 2009) 

Deadline for submitting abstract: Mehr 1, 1388 (September 24, 2009)

 Teer 31-Mordad 1, 1388  (July 22-23, 2009)

Deadline for submitting abstract: Khordad 30, 1388 (June 20, 2009)

This he would place over his head, and fancy that he was in the beech-wood while the sun shone, and the birds carolled gayly. One spring day the neighbor’s boy brought him some field-flowers, and among them was one to which the root still adhered. This he carefully planted in a flower-pot, and placed in a window-seat near his bed. And the flower had been planted by a fortunate hand, for it grew, put forth fresh shoots, and blossomed every year. It became a splendid flower-garden to the sick boy, and his little treasure upon earth. He watered it, and cherished it, and took care it should have the benefit of every sunbeam that found its way into the cellar, from the earliest morning ray to the evening sunset. The flower entwined itself even in his dreams- for him it bloomed, for him spread its perfume. And it gladdened his eyes, and to the flower he turned, even in death, when the Lord called him. He has been one year with God. During that time the flower has stood in the window, withered and forgotten, till at length cast out among the sweepings into the street, on the day of the lodgers’ removal. And this poor flower, withered and faded as it is, we have added to our nosegay, because it gave more real joy than the most beautiful flower in the garden of a queen.” “But how do you know all this?” asked the child whom the angel was carrying to heaven.

“I know it,” said the angel, “because I myself was the poor sick boy who walked upon crutches, and I know my own flower well.” Then the child opened his eyes and looked into the glorious happy face of the angel, and at the same moment they found themselves in that heavenly home where all is happiness and joy. And God pressed the dead child to His heart, and wings were given him so that he could fly with the angel, hand in hand. Then the Almighty pressed all the flowers to His heart; but He kissed the withered fieldflower, and it received a voice. Then it joined in the song of the angels, who surrounded the throne, some near, and others in a distant circle, but all equally happy. They all joined in the chorus of praise, both great and small,- the good, happy child, and the poor field-flower, that once lay withered and cast away on a heap of rubbish in a narrow, dark street.

THE END

Hold fast to dreams

For when dreams go

Life is a barren field

Frozen with snow

Hold fast to dreams

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird

That can’t fly

                 Langston Hughes

Boris Yeltsin, Bill Clinton & Ernesto Zedillo (Mexican President) are in France in a restaurant. The waiter asks "le apperitif?" All of them answer "oui!"
The waiter looks at Zedillo "Le tequila?" Zedillo: "oui!"
The waiter looks at Yeltsin "Le vodka?" Yeltsin: "oui!"
Finally, the waiter looks at Clinton " Le whisky?" Clinton: "DON'T MENTION THAT BITCH

The history teacher wanted to award some of her students with a prize of going home early on Friday. So she said "anyone that answers the following questions first with the correct answer gets to go home! Little Johnny thinks to himself "man I really need to go home early".
The teacher asks who said, “ Ask not what my country can do for me but, what can I do for my country"? Mary raises her hand first and says "John Kennedy.
The teacher says correct, you may go home.
Next she asks who said, "I have a dream"; Peggy raises her hand and says Martin Luther King". "Correct" says the teacher you may go home.
"Damn I wish those bitches had kept their mouths shut,” says Little Johnny. "Who said that?” asks the teacher angrily? Bill Clinton! “See you Monday, Teach" answers Johnny going out the door.

Hillary Clinton dies and goes to Heaven. She meets St. Peter at the Gates, and notices thousands of clocks. "What are all these clocks for?" she asks St. Peter. "Each person has one," he replied. "They start at midnight, and every time someone tells a lie, it moves ahead one minute. This one is Mother Teresa's. She never lied, so it never moved. This one is George Washington's. He told only two, so it is at two minutes past midnight."
Hillary looks around and asks, "So, where is Bill's clock?" "Oh ,"St. Peter chuckled, "Jesus has that one in his office. He's using it as a ceiling fan."

تصحیح یک اشتباه لپی: آدرس فرستندهبالا سمت راست و آدرس گیرنده بالا سمت چپ قرار می گیرد. 

Application letter

                                                                                                6,Mary’s Rd.                                                                                                                          Cornwall        

16^thApr., 1997                                                                                                            

7,The Print Hall                     

Cornwall

Dear sirs,

      I would like to apply for the position of private secretary advertised in the Cornwall Weekly on 7^th Apr., 1997.

      I enclose, herewith, a detailed schedule of my qualifications and experiences.

      The company I am working with at present, Messrs Norman Inc, are about to merge with a bigger sister company and thus be transferred to Essex. Apart from the distance which causes some inconveniences, I am keenly interested in my own initiatives. I’ve gathered that your place may give me the chance, that’s why I am seeking to get the post.

       My present employer has assures me to count on him as a referee. Thus, you may refer to him for reference. I can be available for interview by arrangement.

     Yours Faithfully,

     Paula Richmond