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        開羅mercure酒店 mercurehotel什么酒店

        導讀:開羅mercure酒店 mercurehotel什么酒店 1. mercurehotel什么酒店 2. Mercury 酒店 3. mercure酒店多少錢一晚 4. merchant hotel 5. mercure酒店是什么酒店 6. mercure 酒店 7. mercure酒店是幾星 8. mercure酒店是哪個國家的?

        1. mercurehotel什么酒店

        三亞灣海居鉑爾曼度假酒店、三亞亞龍灣鉑爾曼度假酒店、三亞海棠灣開維費爾蒙酒店、三亞理文索菲特度假酒店、三亞亞龍灣美爵度假酒店。

        雅高酒店集團(Accor)是一家大型的法國跨國企業 ,創立于1967年,總部位于法國巴黎,雅高在近100個國家中經營,旗下的雅高酒店是歐洲酒店業的霸主。集團擁有38個品牌:

        1、奢華品牌包括:萊佛士(Raffles)、費爾蒙(Fairmont)、索菲特傳奇(Sofitel Legend)、SO/、索菲特(Sofitel)、onefinestay等;

        2、高端品牌包括:美憬閣(MGallery)、鉑爾曼(Pullman)、美爵(Grand Mercure)以及瑞士酒店(Swissotel)等;

        3、中端酒店包括:諾富特(Novotel)、美居(Mercure)、MamaShelter和Adagio;

        4、經濟型酒店品牌:宜必思(Ibis)、宜必思尚品(Ibis Style)、宜必思快捷(Ibis Budget)和hotelF1。

        2. Mercury 酒店

        水星溫泉酒店建造于2006年

        3. mercure酒店多少錢一晚

        是不同的牌子。美爵可以說是在原美居基礎上獨立出來的品牌,側重個性的高端酒店。美居英文是mercure,美爵英文是grand mercure

        4. merchant hotel

        I. THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD

        April is the cruellest month, breeding

        Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing

        Memory and desire, stirring

        Dull roots with spring rain.

        Winter kept us warm, covering

        Earth in forgetful snow, feeding

        A little life with dried tubers.

        Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee

        With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,

        And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten, 10

        And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.

        Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen, echt deutsch.

        And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,

        My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,

        And I was frightened. He said, Marie,

        Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.

        In the mountains, there you feel free.

        I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

        What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow

        Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man, 20

        You cannot say, or guess, for you know only

        A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,

        And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,

        And the dry stone no sound of water. Only

        There is shadow under this red rock,

        (Come in under the shadow of this red rock),

        And I will show you something different from either

        Your shadow at morning striding behind you

        Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;

        I will show you fear in a handful of dust. 30

        Frisch weht der Wind

        Der Heimat zu

        Mein Irisch Kind,

        Wo weilest du?

        "You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;

        "They called me the hyacinth girl."

        - Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,

        Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not

        Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither

        Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, 40

        Looking into the heart of light, the silence.

        Od' und leer das Meer.

        Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,

        Had a bad cold, nevertheless

        Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe,

        With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she,

        Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor,

        (Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!)

        Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,

        The lady of situations. 50

        Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,

        And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card,

        Which is blank, is something he carries on his back,

        Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find

        The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.

        I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.

        Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,

        Tell her I bring th e horoscope myself:

        One must be so careful these days.

        Unreal City, 60

        Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,

        A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,

        I had not thought death had undone so many.

        Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,

        And each man fixed his eyes before his feet.

        Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,

        To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours

        With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.

        There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying "Stetson!

        "You who were with me in the ships at Mylae! 70

        "That corpse you planted last year in your garden,

        "Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?

        "Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?

        "Oh keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men,

        "Or with his nails he'll dig it up again!

        "You! hypocrite lecteur! - mon semblable, - mon frere!"

        II. A GAME OF CHESS

        The Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne,

        Glowed on the marble, where the glass

        Held up by standards wrought with fruited vines

        From which a golden Cupidon peeped out 80

        (Another hid his eyes behind his wing)

        Doubled the flames of sevenbranched candelabra

        Reflecting light upon the table as

        The glitter of her jewels rose to meet it,

        From satin cases poured in rich profusion;

        In vials of ivory and coloured glass

        Unstoppered, lurked her strange synthetic perfumes,

        Unguent, powdered, or liquid - troubled, confused

        And drowned the sense in odours; stirred by the air

        That freshened from the window, these ascended 90

        In fattening the prolonged candle-flames,

        Flung their smoke into the laquearia,

        Stirring the pattern on the coffered ceiling.

        Huge sea-wood fed with copper

        Burned green and orange, framed by the coloured stone,

        In which sad light a carved dolphin swam.

        Above the antique mantel was displayed

        As though a window gave upon the sylvan scene

        The change of Philomel, by the barbarous king

        So rudely forced; yet there the nightingale 100

        Filled all the desert with inviolable voice

        And still she cried, and still the world pursues,

        "Jug Jug" to dirty ears.

        And other withered stumps of time

        Were told upon the walls; staring forms

        Leaned out, leaning, hushing the room enclosed.

        Footsteps shuffled on the stair.

        Under the firelight, under the brush, her hair

        Spread out in fiery points

        Glowed into words, then would be savagely still. 110

        "My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me.

        "Speak to me. Why do you never speak. Speak.

        "What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?

        "I never know what you are thinking. Think."

        I think we are in rats' alley

        Where the dead men lost their bones.

        "What is that noise?"

        The wind under the door.

        "What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?"

        Nothing again nothing. 120

        "Do

        "You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember

        "Nothing?"

        I remember

        Those are pearls that were his eyes.

        "Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?"

        But

        O O O O that Shakespeherian Rag -

        It's so elegant

        So intelligent 130

        "What shall I do now? What shall I do?"

        I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street

        "With my hair down, so. What shall we do to-morrow?

        "What shall we ever do?"

        The hot water at ten.

        And if it rains, a closed car at four.

        And we shall play a game of chess,

        Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door.

        When Lil's husband got demobbed, I said -

        I didn't mince my words, I said to her myself, 140

        HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME

        Now Albert's coming back, make yourself a bit smart.

        He'll want to know what you done with that money he gave you

        To get yourself some teeth. He did, I was there.

        You have them all out, Lil, and get a nice set,

        He said, I swear, I can't bear to look at you.

        And no more can't I, I said, and think of poor Albert,

        He's been in the army four years, he wants a good time,

        And if you don't give it him, there's others will, I said.

        Oh is there, she said. Something o' that, I said. 150

        Then I'll know who to thank, she said, and give me a straight look.

        HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME

        If you don't like it you can get on with it, I said.

        Others can pick and choose if you can't.

        But if Albert makes off, it won't be for lack of telling.

        You ought to be ashamed, I said, to look so antique.

        (And her only thirty-one.)

        I can't help it, she said, pulling a long face,

        It's them pills I took, to bring it off, she said.

        (She's had five already, and nearly died of young George.) 160

        The chemist said it would be alright, but I've never been the same.

        You are a proper fool, I said.

        Well, if Albert won't leave you alone, there it is, I said,

        What you get married for if you don't want children?

        HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME

        Well, that Sunday Albert was home, they had a hot gammon,

        And they asked me in to dinner, to get the beauty of it hot -

        HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME

        HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME

        Goonight Bill. Goonight Lou. Goonight May. Goonight. 170

        Ta ta. Goonight. Goonight.

        Good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night, good night.

        III. THE FIRE SERMON

        The river's tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf

        Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind

        Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed.

        Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.

        The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers,

        Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends

        Or other testimony of summer nights. The nymphs are departed.

        And their friends, the loitering heirs of city directors; 180

        Departed, have left no addresses.

        By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept . . .

        Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song,

        Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long.

        But at my back in a cold blast I hear

        The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear.

        A rat crept softly through the vegetation

        Dragging its slimy belly on the bank

        While I was fishing in the dull canal

        On a winter evening round behind the gashouse 190

        Musing upon the king my brother's wreck

        And on the king my father's death before him.

        White bodies naked on the low damp ground

        And bones cast in a little low dry garret,

        Rattled by the rat's foot only, year to year.

        But at my back from time to time I hear

        The sound of horns and motors, which shall bring

        Sweeney to Mrs. Porter in the spring.

        O the moon shone bright on Mrs. Porter

        And on her daughter 200

        They wash their feet in soda water

        Et O ces voix d'enfants, chantant dans la coupole!

        Twit twit twit

        Jug jug jug jug jug jug

        So rudely forc'd.

        Tereu

        Unreal City

        Under the brown fog of a winter noon

        Mr. Eugenides, the Smyrna merchant

        Unshaven, with a pocket full of currants 210

        C.i.f. London: documents at sight,

        Asked me in demotic French

        To luncheon at the Cannon Street Hotel

        Followed by a weekend at the Metropole.

        At the violet hour, when the eyes and back

        Turn upward from the desk, when the human engine waits

        Like a taxi throbbing waiting,

        I Tiresias, though blind, throbbing between two lives,

        Old man with wrinkled female breasts, can see

        At the violet hour, the evening hour that strives 220

        Homeward, and brings the sailor home from sea,

        The typist home at teatime, clears her breakfast, lights

        Her stove, and lays out food in tins.

        Out of the window perilously spread

        Her drying combinations touched by the sun's last rays,

        On the divan are piled (at night her bed)

        Stockings, slippers, camisoles, and stays.

        I Tiresias, old man with wrinkled dugs

        Perceived the scene, and foretold the rest -

        I too awaited the expected guest. 230

        He, the young man carbuncular, arrives,

        A small house agent's clerk, with one bold stare,

        One of the low on whom assurance sits

        As a silk hat on a Bradford millionaire.

        The time is now propitious, as he guesses,

        The meal is ended, she is bored and tired,

        Endeavours to engage her in caresses

        Which still are unreproved, if undesired.

        Flushed and decided, he assaults at once;

        Exploring hands encounter no defence; 240

        His vanity requires no response,

        And makes a welcome of indifference.

        (And I Tiresias have foresuffered all

        Enacted on this same divan or bed;

        I who have sat by Thebes below the wall

        And walked among the lowest of the dead.)

        Bestows one final patronising kiss,

        And gropes his way, finding the stairs unlit . . .

        She turns and looks a moment in the glass,

        Hardly aware of her departed lover; 250

        Her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass:

        "Well now that's done: and I'm glad it's over."

        When lovely woman stoops to folly and

        Paces about her room again, alone,

        She smoothes her hair with automatic hand,

        And puts a record on the gramophone.

        "This music crept by me upon the waters"

        And along the Strand, up Queen Victoria Street.

        O City city, I can sometimes hear

        Beside a public bar in Lower Thames Street, 260

        The pleasant whining of a mandoline

        And a clatter and a chatter from within

        Where fishmen lounge at noon: where the walls

        Of Magnus Martyr hold

        Inexplicable splendour of Ionian white and gold.

        The river sweats

        Oil and tar

        The barges drift

        With the turning tide

        Red sails 270

        Wide

        To leeward, swing on the heavy spar.

        The barges wash

        Drifting logs

        Down Greenwich reach

        Past the Isle of Dogs.

        Weialala leia

        Wallala leialala

        Elizabeth and Leicester

        Beating oars 280

        The stern was formed

        A gilded shell

        Red and gold

        The brisk swell

        Rippled both shores

        Southwest wind

        Carried down stream

        The peal of bells

        White towers

        Weialala leia 290

        Wallala leialala

        "Trams and dusty trees.

        Highbury bore me. Richmond and Kew

        Undid me. By Richmond I raised my knees

        Supine on the floor of a narrow canoe."

        "My feet are at Moorgate, and my heart

        Under my feet. After the event

        He wept. He promised 'a new start'.

        I made no comment. What should I resent?"

        "On Margate Sands. 300

        I can connect

        Nothing with nothing.

        The broken fingernails of dirty hands.

        My people humble people who expect

        Nothing."

        la la

        To Carthage then I came

        Burning burning burning burning

        O Lord Thou pluckest me out

        O Lord Thou pluckest 310

        burning

        IV. DEATH BY WATER

        Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead,

        Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell

        And the profit and loss.

        A current under sea

        Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell

        He passed the stages of his age and youth

        Entering the whirlpool.

        Gentile or Jew

        O you who turn the wheel and look to windward, 320

        Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.

        V. WHAT THE THUNDER SAID

        After the torchlight red on sweaty faces

        After the frosty silence in the gardens

        After the agony in stony places

        The shouting and the crying

        Prison and palace and reverberation

        Of thunder of spring over distant mountains

        He who was living is now dead

        We who were living are now dying

        With a little patience 330

        Here is no water but only rock

        Rock and no water and the sandy road

        The road winding above among the mountains

        Which are mountains of rock without water

        If there were water we should stop and drink

        Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think

        Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand

        If there were only water amongst the rock

        Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit

        Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit 340

        There is not even silence in the mountains

        But dry sterile thunder without rain

        There is not even solitude in the mountains

        But red sullen faces sneer and snarl

        From doors of mudcracked houses

        If there were water

        And no rock

        If there were rock

        And also water

        And water 350

        A spring

        A pool among the rock

        If there were the sound of water only

        Not the cicada

        And dry grass singing

        But sound of water over a rock

        Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees

        Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop

        But there is no water

        Who is the third who walks always beside you? 360

        When I count, there are only you and I together

        But when I look ahead up the white road

        There is always another one walking beside you

        Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded

        I do not know whether a man or a woman

        - But who is that on the other side of you?

        What is that sound high in the air

        Murmur of maternal lamentation

        Who are those hooded hordes swarming

        Over endless plains, stumbling in cracked earth 370

        Ringed by the flat horizon only

        What is the city over the mountains

        Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air

        Falling towers

        Jerusalem Athens Alexandria

        Vienna London

        Unreal

        A woman drew her long black hair out tight

        And fiddled whisper music on those strings

        And bats with baby faces in the violet light 380

        Whistled, and beat their wings

        And crawled head downward down a blackened wall

        And upside down in air were towers

        Tolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hours

        And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells.

        In this decayed hole among the mountains

        In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing

        Over the tumbled graves, about the chapel

        There is the empty chapel, only the wind's home.

        It has no windows, and the door swings, 390

        Dry bones can harm no one.

        Only a cock stood on the rooftree

        Co co rico co co rico

        In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust

        Bringing rain

        Ganga was sunken, and the limp leaves

        Waited for rain, while the black clouds

        Gathered far distant, over Himavant.

        The jungle crouched, humped in silence.

        Then spoke the thunder 400

        DA

        Datta: what have we given?

        My friend, blood shaking my heart

        The awful daring of a moment's surrender

        Which an age of prudence can never retract

        By this, and this only, we have existed

        Which is not to be found in our obituaries

        Or in memories draped by the beneficent spider

        Or under seals broken by the lean solicitor

        In our empty rooms 410

        DA

        Dayadhvam: I have heard the key

        Turn in the door once and turn once only

        We think of the key, each in his prison

        Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison

        Only at nightfall, aetherial rumours

        Revive for a moment a broken Coriolanus

        DA

        Damyata: The boat responded

        Gaily, to the hand expert with sail and oar 420

        The sea was calm, your heart would have responded

        Gaily, when invited, beating obedient

        To controlling hands

        I sat upon the shore

        Fishing, with the arid plain behind me

        Shall I at least set my lands in order?

        London Bridge is falling down falling down falling down

        Poi s'ascose nel foco che gli affina

        Quando fiam ceu chelidon - O swallow swallow

        Le Prince d'Aquitaine a la tour abolie 430

        These fragments I have shored against my ruins

        Why then Ile fit you. Hier onymo's mad againe.

        Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata.

        Shantih shantih shantih

        5. mercure酒店是什么酒店

        深圳世杰美居酒店是四星酒店,由國際聯號酒店管理公司之一的法國雅高集團(Accor)旗下Mercure(美居)品牌與深圳世杰文化投資有限公司合力打造的高端精品酒店。酒店擁有300余套精美客房、會議中心,西餐廳、健身房,洗衣房等配套設施。將憑借優越的地理位置,便捷的交通,強大的品牌號召力,為無論商務差旅或者旅游休閑的您,提供優美舒適的居住體驗

        6. mercure 酒店

        回答: mercurehotel中文名是:美居酒店。

        美居酒店創立于1973年,是源自法國的個性化中高檔酒店品牌,目前在全球分布將近800家酒店,來到中國的美居,期望為您帶來融合法式優雅的生活方式。

        美居酒店的設計在延續“法式優雅”風格的基礎上充分融合了本地特色,使每一家美居酒店的設計都顯得獨具匠心,既彰顯國際化元素又不失本土文化,全方位傳遞清新、愜意、優雅的品牌風格。

        7. mercure酒店是幾星

        mercure中文名:美居。是雅高酒店集團旗下的個性化中端酒店品牌,其是有著悠久歷史的原汁原味的法國品牌,在1973年已經創立,至今已經有47年的歷史。

        8. mercure酒店是哪個國家的?

        雅高集團

        雅高集團總部設在巴黎,成立于1967年,是歐洲最大的酒店集團。截至2004年底,法國雅高集團擁有15.8萬個員工,飯店業務涉及140個國家,是歐洲飯店、餐飲行業的領導企業,也是世界最大的飯店和服務集團之一。雅高在世界范圍內約有4000家飯店,從經濟型到豪華飯店,雅高提供了全系列不同檔次的飯店服務,滿足了不同需求層次顧客的需要。

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            91欧美激情一区二区三区成人