Import Content

Import Content

I would like to import a documentary from youtube. Can you tell me how can I do?

Il y a des sites qui permettent de créer un fichier audio à partir d’une vidéo youtube.
Pour la version écrite, cela dépend de la vidéo et de ce qui est disponible.

Ce qui m’intéresse c’est la partie écrite. Voici le lien de la vidéo :

Je ne trouve pas de sous-titres pour ta vidéo mais pour celle-ci - plus ou moins le même titre.'s_Secret_Water_Garden
Dans la rubrique ed2k Links le lien vers le fichier de sous-titres se trouve à droite de la première ligne - faut cliquer sur [eng]

Ici ce doit être le bon's_Secret_Garden

Même principe mais sur la deuxième ligne.

Merci mais il n’y a pas de sous-titres non plus à la video que tu m’as envoyé, mais le contenu est le même

In central Japan,
a spider weaves her web
in a field of growing rice.
Rice has been a part of Japan
for so long
that it has shaped the land.
Indeed, it has become so much
a part of the Japanese landscape
that it has created
a unique environment essential to
both the people who created it
and the wild animals
that now share it.
Japan is
a country of steep mountains
surrounding wide flat plains
where people have lived
for thousands of years.
The country’s largest freshwater
lake, Lake Biwa,
lies not far from
the ancient city of Kyoto.
The slopes
that stretch down towards
the lake have been terraced.
Rice seedlings need shallow water
in which to grow
and the neat,
meticulously constructed
paddy fields provide just this.
Some of them have been cultivated
for thousands of years.
Alongside them stand
patches of woodland where,
for centuries,
the people have found
their fuel and their food.
This is a land
that has been touched by people,
yet the people
tread lightly upon it.
It’s a land that has been ruled
for centuries
by the demands of the rice,
yet it’s still dominated
by the rhythmic cycle
of the seasons
as they change
throughout the year.
This is a landscape
that the Japanese people hold
so close to their hearts
that they have a special word
for it.
They call these places
where the forested mountains
meet the terraces of rice
lt’s April now.
The days are lengthening
and it’s getting warmer.
Spring is on its way.
As the progressing year
brings changes to the country,
there is also another rhythm
which transforms the land,
as it has done for centuries.
Early in the spring
the dry fields are turned
into wetlands.
The cold mountain water
spreads over to the dry fields.
As they slowly fill,
the water once again links them
both to the mountains above
and to Lake Biwa, below.
Gradually it seeps into the earth,
reawakening the soil
after the frozen months of winter
and rousing the small creatures
that have lain dormant there
since the autumn.
Mountain water is rich
in nutrients
so each year its return enhances
the fertility of the rice fields.
Early spring is
a time of intense work
for the farmers,
as they prepare their fields
for the rice.
Satoyama is an environment
created by human beings,
but it’s also one that is
in harmony
with the natural world
that surrounds it.
Animals on all sides are awaiting
the return of the water.
Woken from her hibernation
and attracted
by the fresh scent of water,
a pond turtle moves down
into this new wetland.
Here she will mate
and in a few days time,
she will lay her eggs
on the terrace banks.
Tree frogs return
to the flooded paddies
to feed and to spawn.
lnsects of many kinds
gradually appear.
Over a thousand
different species of them
will eventually find
what they need in the rice fields.
A fire-bellied newt
starts its search for food.
Some creatures
have come to the flooded fields
from a considerable distance away,
others have been here
all through the year.
This water scorpion spent
winter months
buried in the dried earth.
It too has been aroused
by the cold mountain water.
Many of these small creatures
become prey for water birds
which time their arrival
to coincide
with the flooding of the terraces.
The rhythm of change
was imposed on this landscape
by farmers so long ago
that it has now become
an integral part
of the workings
of the natural world.
The people themselves
are also governed
by the rhythms of the seasons.
At crucial times
they hold festivals
to ask the gods
for a healthy crop
and a bountiful harvest.
They regularly pay their respects
to the forces of nature
that still control their fields.
lrrigation canals,
lined with cement,
link these terraced fields
to Lake Biwa,
and on a spring night in May,
catfish from the lake
fight their way up them,
struggling against
the flow of the water.
The flooding of
the terraced fields,
combined with seasonal rain,
has created many waterways
that lead down to the lake.
For the catfish,
the timing is crucial.
One after another,
they laboriously
make their way up the channels
into the newly planted
rice paddies.
They have spent the winter
in the deep waters of the lake,
but now they need shallow water
and mud in which
to lay their eggs.
Satoyama provides them
with exactly what they want.
Just before dawn,
adult fish congregate
in one of the rice paddies
and begin to court amongst
the newly-planted rice seedlings.
The female is large
and heavy with eggs.
A male, who is smaller,
follows her,
trying to attract her attention.
Entwining his body around hers,
he rubs her abdomen,
stimulating her to lay her eggs
which he will then fertilize.
Their coupling is sometimes
so vigorous
that they often damage
the newly planted rice seedlings -
but the farmers nonetheless gladly
share their fields
with such wild creatures as these.
The spawning is all over
within a single day.
The adult fish then return down
the waterways to the lake,
leaving behind them
countless tiny eggs
in the flooded fields.
Two days after spawning,
the embryonic fish
are moving inside the security
of their tiny egg capsules.
Day by day,
as the earth tilts fractionally
more towards the sun,
day-light lasts longer
and the shallow water
becomes warmer.
The emergence of the catfish
has coincided miraculously
with a sudden abundance of food.
The earth of the paddy fields
when they were dry
contained millions
of microscopic eggs,
laid the previous year
by water fleas.
Now that the paddies
are flooded once again,
these eggs also hatch.
So the waters
have become rich with food.
A dragonfly larva is hunting.
The water fleas are an easy prey.
The young catfish
are also feeding on them
and growing quickly.
As the seedlings sprout,
the land is transformed yet again
and turns green.
Beneath the surface of the water
the duels between the hunters
and the hunted continue.
A water stick-insect sits,poised,
waiting for its prey
to come within range.
And a dragonfly larva,
once a hunter,
now itself becomes a victim.
A water scorpion
conceals itself in the mud.
The young catfish
seem totally unaware
of the danger that threatens them.
A blood-worm
is food for a fire-bellied newt.
The giant water-bug
is a giant indeed.
It’s the largest insect
in Japan
and a formidable hunter.
With grim persistence,
the giant water bug
sucks out the nutritious fluids
from the frog’s body.
The empty husk
will then be cast aside
and be absorbed into the mud.
A black kite hunts
above one of
the small patches of woodland
that grow alongside
the terraced fields.
These woods are a vital element
in the complex world of satoyama.
They act as water reservoirs,
absorbing the falling rain
and then gradually releasing it
so that it can seep down
through the soil
to the plains there,
to evaporate and so to return
to the atmosphere.
The woods
have been used for centuries
by the local people
who come here to forage for food,
to gather firewood
and to make charcoal.
Many of the oaks
have strange multiple trunks.
That is because
they have been used by the people
to grow a delicacy that is much
relished by Japanese gourmets.
The slender trunks
and branches of oaks
are regularly cut
and then stacked in piles
called “hodagi.”
They are then left here
for about a month to dry out.
When the sap has all gone,
holes are bored into them.
Plugs,made of a mixture of sawdust
and mushroom spawn
are then hammered into each hole
and sealed with a plug of wood.
eventually sprout
from the plugs of wood -
and Japanese cooks
will pay high prices for them.
The oak tree
does not die.
lts stump sprouts once more.
It will not be cropped again
for eighteen years or so.
As the young branches grow,
they attract new visitors.
Longicorn beetles
come to drink their sap.
The larvae of the silkworm moth
prefer more aged branches.
Having fed on the leaves,
they spin their cocoons.
Silk from these
provides another crop
for the people
and has done so for centuries.
They use
its thin delicate filaments,
spun together into a thread
to weave
the most sumptuous of fabrics.
For the caterpillar,
the silk will serve
as a shroud beneath
which it will transform itself
into a winged adult.
So the long rhythms of the forest
repeat themselves.
After five years
the hodagi logs are exhausted
and of no further use
for growing mushrooms,
so they are dumped
and left to rot.
The humus produced by their decay
seeps back into the ground
where it’s reclaimed
by the roots of living trees
and provides food
for other creatures.
The larva of the scarab beetle
is one of them.
Having spent half a year
as a grub,
feeding voraciously,
it has now turned into a pupa.
lts newly formed shell
is still soft.
In Japanese,this insect
is called “kabutomushi,”
as the shape of its head
reminds people
of the war helmet worn
by the Samurai
and the plates of its body
of the armor
of those ancient warriors
of medieval Japan.
As spring changes to summer,
so the flooded fields
become grasslands.
This is the time
when the giant water-bug
lays its eggs.
The female produces
as many as eighty in one batch.
Having done so,she abandons them.
But the male remains on guard
and stays with them
for over a week.
Every now and then,
he leaves them briefly to collect
the water necessary
to keep them moist.
One week later
the giant water-bugs
begin to hatch.
It’s summer and water
from the forest
continues to flow down
into the rice fields.
It travels
along their network of channels
and then goes on down
to Lake Biwa.
The young catfish
are now about two months old.
It’s time for them to prepare
to leave these warm shallows
and to make their way down
to the deeper, colder waters
of the lake
where they will spend
most of their adult lives.
Their parents came up
through the farmer’s waterways
to reach these rice fields.
Now their offspring
use the same channels
to take them down to the lake.
Without the work of the farmers
and the methods
they have developed
to grow their rice,
the catfish of Lake Biwa
would not have
these extensive nurseries.
Once they reach
the safety of the lake,
they will stay for 2 or 3 years,
feeding and growing,
until the time comes
for them too to swim back up
the very same channels to spawn.
Now another small creature
is preparing
to leave the rice fields.
It uses a different exit.
The larva of the red dragonfly,
after two months of
feeding, crawls up the rice stems
from which it will launch itself
into the air.
To do that it must
first change its shape
and acquire wings.
The dragonfly
will leave these terraced fields
and fly away
to the nearby mountains
for the summer months.
So it forms a link between
the world of satoyama -
the cultivated land -
and the wilderness
that surrounds it.
The end of June.
it’s midsummer.
The days are long and warm.
The people living
in the small villages
alongside the rice fields
make their own
special contributions
to the living landscape
of satoyama.
The flowers in the gardens
are an important source of nectar
for many species -
including swallowtail butterflies.
In the corner of a village garden,
a large spider waits on its web.
As in many parts of Japan,
spiders are
welcomed and encouraged
to stay as a sign of good fortune.
They do, after all,
feed on insects which may be harmful
to both people and crops.
In a hackberry tree,
another small life is about
to take its place
in the satoyama community.
This is Japan’s
national butterfly,
called "“oo-murasaki.”
The purple of its wings
is the color
that once could be used
only by the Emperors
and the high priests
of ancient Japan.
In its caterpillar stage,
it lives only
on these hackberry trees.
As an adult,
it will fly away to feed on the
sap of trees in the woodlands.
During the warm summer nights,
the rice paddies
become alive with another insect
much loved by the Japanese
Using the language of light,
they signal courtship messages
to one another.
Their adult lives are brief
Japanese families, by tradition,
come to watch the fireflies
every year at this season -
to marvel at the tiny lights
winking over the rice fields
and to ponder on the fragility
of the lives
of those that produce them.
Fireworks are a special treat
on these summer evenings.
In a corner of the garden,
behind the children
and their fireworks,
another life
is undergoing dramatic change.
For seven years,
this cicada
has remained underground.
Now it’s emerging to spend
the last few days of its life
as a winged creature
in urgent search of a mate.
There are many species
of cicada in Japan.
Each has
its own characteristic song
and each is a reminder
to the people
of another stage
in the passing seasons.
it’s high summer.
The rice has been
growing steadily.
But there’s still
a great deal of work to be done.
The terraces must be
kept free of weeds
to allow the rice to grow freely.
It’s hard, hot labor.
The farmers wade out
into the shallow ponds
that adjoin their rice fields.
These man-made reservoirs
hold water throughout the year
and the people stock them
with carp.
Now that harvest
can also be gathered.
They have
their own special devices
with which to collect it.
Each family takes home
its own catch.
It’s an annual seasonal feast
that everyone enjoys.
Summer is a holiday time
for the children
and while their parents work
in the fields,
they make
the most of the long evenings.
The pleasure and fascination
that so many Japanese find
in insects
shows itself early in life.
Stag beetles are
particular favorites.
The larger the better.
The male beetles,
when confronted with one another,
will do what comes naturally -
they will fight
for control of a territory.
A scarab beetle has emerged
from under its pile
of hodagi logs.
As night begins to fall,
it climbs out to look
for the sap it feeds on.
Through the night,
battles will be fought and lost
as each beetle strives
for the control
of the best places.
And it’s not just that
they themselves want the sap.
Good feeding spots
also attract females.
So, like the samurai
they so resemble,
they do battle.
It’s September.
Summer is vanishing
with the shortening days
and the rice fields
are about to change yet again.
Soon it will be time
for the harvest.
One hundred and fifty days ago,
these terraced fields
became wetlands
as water from the mountains
flowed into them.
Since then they have been
slowly changing
in time with the seasons.
As each field was transformed,
different species arrived -
some swimming, some flying -
to take advantage
of the changing scene.
For the farmers
this year has been a good one.
The red dragonfly
returns from the mountains
to the land where it hatched.
It’s time for the people
to collect
the rewards of
so many months of labor.
As the rice dries
in the autumn sun,
the air is
full of the scent of hay.
There is now no place here
for the giant water-bug.
Other insects are also abandoning
the drying fields.
They take to the wing
and fly away
in search of the water
that they still need.
The reservoirs provide a new home
for those water creatures
that once hunted
through the rice paddies.
Here they will be able to
spend the winter in safety.
As the land changes color
and the autumn leaves
fall to the ground,
the pace of life slows.
Tree frogs that hatched out
in the rice paddies
have now returned
to the nearby woodlands
and prepare to hibernate
under a blanket of fallen leaves.
Before the very last puddles
from the harvested fields,
there is
one final act of creation.
In a ritual courtship flight,
the red dragonflies mate.
The male clasps the female
and she repeatedly dips the tip of
her abdomen into the puddles,
depositing her eggs.
The eggs will remain dormant
through the bitter cold of winter.
When spring returns
and the mountain water flows
once again into these fields,
they will hatch out
and a new generation
of savage larvae
will prowl through the waters
of the paddies.
For centuries,
persimmon trees have been planted
along the rice terraces.
They are an autumn fruit
much loved by the Japanese.
They are gathered singly
and with great care.
The persimmon trees are essential
for the many damselflies
that now gather
around their branches
overhanging the rice paddies.
Like the dragonfly,
the damsel too
has changed its behavior
to take advantage of the landscape
created by humanity.
The damselflies
lay on these branches,
twisting their ovipositors
so that their eggs will be placed
in safety beneath the bark.
And then they die.
When spring comes
and the rice paddies
fill once again.
The damselfly larvae
will drop directly
into the waters.
In the harvested fields,
the dragonflies indulge
in a final bout of egg-laying.
The skinned persimmon fruits
are neatly hung
by the farmers’ houses.
These, carefully dried,
used to be a valuable winter food
for the people of satoyama -
and also
a source of much-needed cash.
when food of one kind or another
is easily available
all the year round,
fewer farmers bother
with the persimmon crop.
Even so, the appearance of
the drying fruit
so carefully placed on their racks
is recognized by all Japanese
as a sign
that winter is fast approaching.
As the land freezes,
little life is visible in
and around the rice fields
which are now covered
by a blanket of snow.
Yet there is life there,
hidden and quietly waiting
for the renewal that will come
when the waters return
once again with the sun.
Winter is also
a time of rest for the farmers.
For their lives too are
to the natural rhythms around them.
At the edge of this rice field
a small natural spring bubbles out
from the ground.
It will remain unfrozen
throughout the winter
and at its edge, the local people
place floral offerings to the gods
for this gift.
In a muddy bottom,
a water scorpion waits, asleep,
neither moving nor breathing.
Winter settles in.
On the edge
of a frozen rice paddy,
a farmer’s hut stands deserted.
But in a corner,
there is a reminder of
the spring that will come.
The chrysalis
of a cabbage butterfly.
February. The year has turned.
The faint heat of the distant sun
warms the land long enough
for a cold mist to rise
from the thawing fields.
Winter is loosening its grip.
Soon work in these fields
will resume.
Once again, the mountain water
will flow, the rice
will be planted
and visitors from the woods above
and the lake below will come back.
Once again,
satoyama will be filled with life.

Faut les télécharger depuis le lien [eng] sur la page comme j’ai indiqué plus haut.
Ensuite faut enlever tout ce qui n’est pas le texte proprement dit.

Merci mais je crois que je vais abandonner cette idée. C’est un peu compliqué pour moi, je suis membre que depuis 4 mois et j’utilise que les fonctionnalités de base de Lingq.
En fait je vais chercher un ebook, je pense que ce sera plus facile pour l’importer sur Lingq.

J’ai essayé d’importer un podcast aujourd’hui mais cela n’a pas fonctionné. J’ai d’abord cliqué sur “Import content” ensuite je suis arrivé sur une page où je pouvais télécharger un fichier audio. Puis j’ai donné un titre et quand j’ai cliqué sur “sauvegarder et ouvrir” j’ai eu un message d’erreur me disant qu’il fallait contacter lingqsupport.