All language subtitles for Guillermo del Toro - Cronos - Spanish with German Subs

MERRY CΗRISTMAS

Sit up straight.

GRAND BAZAAR ANTIQUES

Here.

Go through these.

Excuse me.
Can I help you?

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

What can I do for you?

Now, this one.
Where does it go?

Very good.

Now he has a face.
You go now.

Early in the morning

At the break of day

Open up your little eyes

This one is stiIl missing.
Put them in groups,

by size and shape.

If you provoke them,

it's worse, Aurora.

De la Guardia Enterprises.

Good morning, sir.

Are you Iooking for something
in particular?

It's unique.

It's not my money.

I'II wrap it for you.

You want it?

Yes?

No?

Yes.

- Of course.
- And yours too.

- How about this one?
- No.

- And this one?
- That one.

That one.

You Iike it too?

A present.
And thanks to both of you.

Good luck.

No, honey, it's not chocoIate.

Something like this happens
once in a lifetime.

Once in a Iifetime.

WeII,

nothing happened.

Look, it's funny.

What do you think it is?

A toy?

Stay away from it.

Don't be scared.

Get me a box.

One, two, three.
And one,

two.

One, two, three.

Now, listen carefuIly.
This is seven in four.

We'Il start with this Ieg, Manuelito.

And one, two, three and four,

five, six and seven.

One, two, three, four.
Don't grunt, ManueIito.

- Excuse me.
- And...

And now, the finaIe.

Good afternoon.

Where did you fall down?

On some broken glass.

- You won't need any stitches.
- Ouch!

Men are such whiners. Do you remember
when BIondie March died?

Everyone was soaked in bIood
and she was cIean as a whistIe.

But dead as a doornaiI.

There's something in there.

This wiII hurt.

Thanks for letting me know.

I almost got it.

It was buried deep.

- What is it?
- l don't know. A metaI filing.

No, it Iooks more like a stinger.

From a bee. l don't know.

Please, pIease.

Be very carefuI. l beg you, pIease.

Our Father, who art in heaven,
halIowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come, thy will be done
on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our trespasses,

as we forgive those
who trespass against us.

No.

l'm okay, darling.

I'm okay.

Good morning.

- I'm reading.
- There's too much light.

It's incredible, you know?

Baby Vizcaina died at 92...

Do you like it?

No.

You Iook...

different, a lot younger.

ExactIy. That's the point.
That's how l feel.

Where's Aurora?
- Don't you want breakfast?

I'm not hungry.

Hey, do you like it or not?

- Yes, l do.
- Good.

I'm gIad.

DE LA GUARDlA ENTERPRlSES
ANGEL DE LA GUARDIA

Hi, Mr. Gris!

How are you? Okay?

You destroyed my shop!

You don't know
what you're getting yourself into.

AImost 40 years ago,

I found this manuscript.

Forty years.

They are the notes,

the inscrutable writings

of a 1 6th-century aIchemist.

It's a fascinating text.

It's written backwards, in Latin.

It describes a very peculiar mechanism,

an invention that prolongs the Iife
of the person who uses it.

But there are ruIes,

precise and very strict rules

about its usage.

- An insect?
- That's the stroke of genius.

An insect is trapped in the device.

lt's like

a living filter.

You think so?
I mean, after aII these years.

Who says insects aren't
God's favorite creatures?

Christ walked on water,

just like a mosquito.

The matter of the resurrection

is reIated to ants, to spiders.

They can remain inside a rock
for hundreds of years

until someone comes aIong
and frees them.

Of course.

AII of this is very enlightening,
but why teIl me?

I'm dying, Mr. Gris.

I'm going to show you something.

The scaIpel has been
eating away at me bit by bit.

Chemotherapy, radiotherapy,
psychotherapy.

Look carefuIIy, my friend.

Half of my body is here, in this case.

And the other haIf

is already on the menu...

or is being devoured
right now, while we talk.

No! That's mine!

You used it?

You used it?
- lt was an accident.

You fooI!

AngeI!

Oh, Mr. Gris.

De la Guardia!

We both have something to Iose.

Mr. Gris?

lmpossible.

I put it here, damn it!

Aurora! My God.

Aurora?

I know you have it.

Aurora.

Aurora?

Are you scared?

Do you think something
wiII happen to me?

Are you comfortable back there?

This happened to me once before,
with your dad.

Do you remember him,
even a Iittle bit?

Yes.

I would imagine so.

When he was your age,

he overheard someone taIking
about people who die of Iung cancer.

So when I got home from work,

I found my cigarettes had vanished.

After looking aIl over,
I went in the bathroom

and found many Iittle bits of tobacco.

They were floating in the toiIet.

Just IittIe bits.

I think he understood Iater
that destroying my cigarettes

didn't help matters at aII.

But at least, I understood
that he was worried.

And he understood
that l had understood.

You know what?

I don't know what's wrong with me.

But I think it's best if we're together.

- Jesus.
- Just a minute.

- l need your help.
- Just a minute.

Hurry up, darling.
We're going to be Iate.

Who are you, Iittle one?

A god?

You're very good for me.

I don't know why this dress doesn't fit.
l wore it for Iast year's dance.

l'm aImost ready.

How couId I change so much
in so littIe time?

Do you remember?

Do I remember?

My love
l can't believe it's all over

And life has separated us

Do I remember?

The first time l saw you,

I thought you wouldn't
give me the time of day.

I felt so smaII...

That's what architects caIl vectors.

- That's amazing.
- That's it?

The small parts
always support the large ones.

- But what hoIds it up?
- lt's not a pIay on words. The pilIars...

- Teacher.
- l'lI be right with you, ManueIito.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

What's wrong?

Is something wrong?

- l'lI be right back.
- Where are you going?

To get a drink.

It's hot.

This aIways happens to me.

- Are you feeling better?
- Yes.

Every time I drink, l have to pee.

I've been listening to this music
since l was a little boy.

What a fucking decadent party.

RealIy.

Give me a fucking break.

Look what they did here.

The party got crashed
by some Argentinean

or a Peruvian, shit.

You break your back alI year Iong
to go to a nice party...

Fuck.

I'm Ieaving.

Nine, eight, seven,

six, five,

four, three,
HAPPY NEW YEAR - TlGERS CLUB

two, one!

lt has been a pleasure,
an honor for Day Radio,

to bring to your homes

the traditional live broadcast
of the Tigers Club annual party.

We're always thinking of you
and wishing you the very best.

May all your New Year's resolutions
have a most joyous outcome

and open the most
wonderful paths to you.

Here, in HPLM's sound booth,

we feel honored, overwhelmed -

yes, why not say it -
overwhelmed with joy

to hear from you,
to answer your calls.

Mrs. Lorenza wants to send her
warmest regards to the whole family.

And she wishes the very best
for us all.

Mrs. Lupita Raquel
sends everyone her wishes

for glory to God in heaven,
peace on earth and goodwill.

How beautiful.

You.

What the fuck does
the old man want with it?

He never toId you?

He thinks it wiIl heIp him live Ionger.

Leave me alone.

Do what you have to do,
but leave me alone.

Get up!

So quiet.

My God, so much blood.

All that blood is mine.

l'm dying.

Unbelievable.

Everything's upside down.

And l'm dying.

Alone.

Don't let me die today.

l'm in so much pain.

l can endure a lot more.
A lot more.

Oh, Aurora.

Wow, Tito. Wow.

The forehead is turning out...

perfect.

lt looks totally normaI.

It's your best work yet.
- Fuck, yeah.

There's a technique to this.

I'm giving it shape,

texture,

coIor.

You have to be a fucking artist.

Yes.

But don't go to so much troubIe.
We're going to cremate him.

What?

Fuck me! What do you mean
we're going to burn him?

You should've toId me before
I fixed the fucker, God rest his souI.

Nobody respects my work here.
Why didn't you guys Iet me know?

You! Why didn't you Iet me know?

The widow changed her mind.

lt Iooks Iike the guy
didn't make preparations.

He didn't buy a niche,
or a grave plot, nothing.

They're aII the same.

The bastards think they'Il live forever.

Motherfucker.

Look at that.

Was it a Iively wake?

We won't send you to heaven Iike this.

Naked, with lipstick smudges aIl over.

They'Il think you went whoring.

Here you go, buddy.

Come in, sir. Come in.
Make yourself at home.

Tito, Mr. De la Guardia is -

was a friend of the deceased.

He wants to see the body
one last time.

Of course.

Medium or well done?

HE lSN'T DEAD
HE JUST LEFT EARLY

FOR BEING WITH US
DURlNG THESE TRYING TIMES

Hello?

Yes?

Mercedes.

Is that for me?

Dear Mer... cedes.

lt's very hard to write
these lines to you.

l want you to know that,

somehow,

for some reason,

l'm still alive.

And being alive is very painful.

l'm burning with thirst.

And everything feels foreign to me,

the day,

this house...

and you.

Aurora will stay with you.

She will leave you this letter.

By the time you read it,

I wiIl have gone
to a kind of appointment

to resolve unfinished business.

lf l've lost everything,
at least l'd like to know why.

Just today l realize
how much l miss you.

l hope to find you here
when l come back, willing to see me,

regardless of my appearance.

Love,

Jesus.

Aurora.

For God's sake, what are you doing here?

I told you not to come, Aurora.

Put that away.

Don't you reaIize they couId kiIl us?

Don't you reaIize we're in danger?

It works.

I knew you'd be back.

lf you're looking
for the missing pages,

you're wasting your time.

l ate them.

You taIk about eternity.

Look at me, look at my skin.
It's rotting. lt's falling to pieces.

What? What are you talking about?

Look.

What's happening to me?

You've been reborn.

Why is this happening?

Why this new skin?

And don't answer with riddles!

You talk about insects,

about alchemists, about devices.

But what am l missing?

Blood.

Human?

I can break the device,
smash it to pieces.

I don't give a damn about eternity!

I don't want to live forever.
l just want out of this.

I don't trust you.

I don't think you have a choice.

Give it to me, darling.

Give it to me, I know what I'm doing.

But first...

my way out.

My God, Aurora.

Let's go, okay?

Let's go.

Please.

AngeI.

Oh, Mr. Gris.

Mr. Gris.

Go on.

Go on!

Come here.

AngeI!

What the fuck do l have to do
to kiII you?

You've got more to Iose.

For me, it's just pain.

Grandfather.

No!

I am Jesus...

Gris.

Jesus Gris.

lN MEMORY OF
JOSEFlNA CAMBEROS