Original subtitles

The art of losing isn't hard to master

So many things seem really to be meant to be lost

That their loss is no disaster

Lose something every day

Accept the fluster of lost door keys

The hour badly spent

The art of losing isn't hard to master

Two verses?

It feels incomplete, Elizabeth,

observations broken into lines.

The poem ends just where it ought to be picking up steam.

I'm sorry.

No, no, you're right, Cal.

I'm tired.

I'll take a trip.

Ah, the geographic cure.

Terrific, except you can't escape yourself.

Well, we'll see.

Fresh lands.

I'm getting nowhere here.

And I'm getting nowhere here.

I can't imagine life without your weekly attacks

on my poetry and virtue.

Virtue? That's good, that's good.

Let's go.

Listen, Lowell...

If anything happens to me when I'm away

I want you to write my epitaph, and I want you to say

I was the loneliest person who ever lived.

For Christ's sake, Elizabeth,

why the hell would you say something like that?

Oh, you know, Cal...

Just a momentary lapse into melancholy drama

before the first libation of the day.

Plaza?

Sure.

Did we cross the equator yet?

It's about a minute to go. I'll ring the bell.

- Thank you very much. - Sure.

Did we miss it?

I'm afraid so,

but it wasn't much, really... just a slight bump.

How did we get here so fast?

Really, such indecent haste.

Thank you.

See her?

There she is!

Elizabeth Bishop, welcome to Brazil.

Thank you.

Elizabeth.

How are you, Mary?

Never better.

The traffic was awful.

We thought we'd miss you.

Lota drove like an absolute terror.

Let's go, let's go, girls!

Welcome to Samambaia.

This is Joaninha,

my guardian angel, my black sister.

She's saying welcome.

- Thank you. - We say, Obrigada.

Obrigada.

Excuse me.

That's the new house Lota is building us.

Long way from Vassar, huh?

It certainly is.

How are your parents?

We don't speak.

What happened?

I live with a woman.

They know?

They found out.

They say I'm dead to them.

I'm sorry.

This is my home now.

That's a Maria Leontina, Lota's favorite painter.

How is it... here?

We are discreet in Rio,

but up here no one bothers us much.

I think it's beyond their imagination.

Mine too.

No, no, no. You don't have to do that.

Mary.

Still dancing?

Still training.

It seems to be keeping you in good shape.

Oh Elizabeth, really...

Anyway, it's all yours.

The room, that is...

Mary, come on, let's go up!

This is me... I designed this all myself!

Every inch of it.

You see the stones?

I kept the moss on them.

Did you notice the shape of the ceiling?

It follows the mountains.

It must been a lot of work.

It was a lot of fun, Elizabeth.

It's like being outside, isn't it?

What an adorable cat.

Does he have a name?

No, he's just a stray.

Come here, I want to show you something.

Now that is marvelous.

It looks like a modern sculpture.

You should leave it just like that.

It is just like that.

It's only for three days.

You can put up with an old friend of mine for that long.

Does today count as day one?

Ow!

How close were you in college?

We were both very busy,

pretending not to be who we were

while being attracted to each other

for what we thought the other might be.

Well, that doesn't quite answer the question.

No, we didn't...

But it was close.

She's so blasé.

She is stuck up, defensive.

She is shy...

Brilliant...

Deceptively funny...

Dangerous.

Dangerous?

There was this boy

who was crazy for her.

I don't know what she did to him,

but he sent her a postcard saying "Go to hell, Elizabeth."

My, God, I'm so impressed.

And then he killed himself.

Excuse me.

No.

But this is a very good Bordeaux.

Not today, thank you.

Would you care for some water, Elizabeth?

Can you drink the water here?

Oh, yes, it's from our spring.

Is it mineral?

No, darling, it's fresh water.

That's Farofa, traditional Brazilian food.

It's delicious.

Hey, you're pushing away the best part.

I'm allergic to nuts.

That could be a problem in Brazil.

And Rio, do you like it?

Well, I didn't get to see much,

but it sort of seemed like

a cross between Mexico City and Miami.

A toast, to the inaugural meal

of the most amazing house in Petropolis!

No one but you could have done this, Lota.

Here, here.

No, no, no, don't do that.

Don't toast with water, it's bad luck.

Trust me, it's worse luck if it's not water.

It is so peaceful on the ceiling

It is the Place de la Concorde

The little crystal chandelier is off

The fountain's in the dark

Not a soul is in the park

I can't believe you know that.

I may be a politician,

but that doesn't mean I can't love poetry as well as power.

We must go under the wallpaper to meet the insect-gladiator

To battle with a net and trident...

But I forget how it ends.

Please.

No, I can't.

Please, Miss Bishop.

I'm sorry, I just... can't.

And leave the fountain and the square

But, oh, that we could sleep up there

Bravo.

Excuse me.

Why wouldn't you finish your poem when Carlos asked you?

He was in awe of you.

It was rude.

I'm not a performer.

No, you are imperious, you are aloof...

and drink good whiskey alone.

I'm... sorry.

We can't all be as proud of our work as you are.

No, really, I find it so admirable...

"I designed all this myself, every inch of it."

Me?

I hear one of my poems, and I'm... mortified.

Observations broken into lines.

Beautiful observations broken... into perfect lines.

I guess this is why you should never meet authors.

Good night, strange woman.

What did she say?

Oh, she apologized.

What did you say?

Maybe I was a little too quick to judge.

As you said, she's very shy.

A kiss and make up situation.

Something like that...

Without the kiss.

Good night.

Good night.

Good morning.

I think I should see a bit of Rio before the boat leaves.

What's the point?

I mean, you're right,

Rio's just another crummy city full of sweating Cucarachas.

I'll drive you.

You can stay at our apartment in Copacabana.

I'll show you around Rio.

No, thank you.

I think it's best if I stay in a hotel near the docks.

Nonsense.

Sit down and have your breakfast.

Why don't you spend some time here?

Take the next boat. It'll do you good.

- Lota. - What?

No. Thank you, really, It's all planned.

Well, see how you feel after breakfast.

I'll drive you.

Thank you.

Lota!

What?

Oh, my God...

You want to play the capoeira? Really?

Christ, what have I done?

Still want to kiss me?

Absolutely not.

You look like a diseased pumpkin.

Well, you're going to have to stay here tonight...

and with us a couple of days.

I'll stay here with her.

OK.

Any Caju fruits in there?

No.

It only works once.

Good trick.

It was my trick, minha flor?

Minha flor, what does that mean?

Literally, my flower,

but it means honey...

Sweetie...

Darling...

Thank you.

Is that a Calder?

Well done.

Yes, it is.

Look who I found for you.

Thank you, Mary.

Well...

The next ship doesn't leave for another three weeks,

so settle in.

What does "abaixo o governo" mean?

Abaixo.

- Abaixo... - Abaixo o governo,

Down with the government.

And are you related to Jose Eduardo de Macedo Scares?

José Eduardo...

He slept with my mother nine months before I was born.

At least you have a father.

That's debatable.

He wanted a son, he got me.

Then he wanted a daughter

who would marry and give him grandchildren.

That's not me, so...

End of story.

My father died when I was eight months old.

At least you had a mother.

Until I was five, then she was taken to a mental hospital.

Is she still alive?

No.

- Time for presents! - Presents!

If you don't like it...

No, I love it, it's exquisite.

I'm sorry, I didn't have time to wrap it.

It's by one of our best poets, Manoel Bandeira.

It's beautiful. Thank you, Carlos.

Who knows... maybe one day you'll come back to Brazil...

and translate him.

Happy birthday.

How did you know I love Racine?

How could you not?

Well, my French isn't what it used to be.

Mine is great; I'll translate.

Another one.

Oh, Lota, I can't take this...

Please. It would be rude to refuse it.

For your trip.

Most people forget to bring theirs when they travel.

Thank you, Mary.

Well, I think the birthday girl should make a toast.

No, no.

Just a drop, don't worry.

Speech.

Here's to the rock beneath us

that shores up this house,

and...

to everything in life that may seem improbable,

but is not impossible.

I'll drink to that.

I love the Calder on you.

You should have kept it.

Perhaps I will.

I want you to stay.

And Mary?

We're great friends, we love each other,

but basically, we are roommates.

Does Mary know you're roommates?

Of course she does.

Maybe she doesn't want to admit it.

What is that?

Owls.

So I'm leaving...

I'm going back home until you figure this out.

Mary... This is your home.

Then send her away.

I can't.

You don't know her. She screws everything up.

She was like that in college.

Let's adopt a baby.

You'll buy me a baby

so that you can have an affair with another woman?!

That's what you've always wanted.

This is the key are you offer me?

Yes!

This is the key are you offer me?!

Stop it!

Stop it! Stop it!

And Mary just... left?

Yes, to Rio...

To think about what to do.

I feel terrible.

Why?

Lota, she's one of my oldest friends!

What kind of life can you expect

if you put friendship before love?

One that doesn't move quite this fast.

Come here.

Come here.

I'm so in love with you, Elizabeth.

I should warn you...

Unless I'm rather drunk I'm very shy.

And furthermore, love's not something...

So this... will be your studio.

I'm going to put it right on top of that plateau.

You'll have the most gorgeous view.

You blew up the mountain so I'd have a better view?

It's the least I could do.

Where did you study architecture?

I was born an architect.

I've decided to accept your offer.

I'm so happy, Mary.

Life wouldn't be the same without you.

Come on.

I have no other options.

Of course you do, but this is the best one.

We'll find a beautiful little girl,

we'll raise her together.

- A family. - No, you don't understand.

I meant I have no other option than to love you.

Oh, Mary.

I love you too, Mary.

I love you too.

Wait, wait, wait...

See how entangled we still are?

Maybe I should go back to New York

until you and Mary figure out what you really want.

I know what I want.

Yes.

You want everything and everyone.

I want everything I can get, of course.

I will never have children of my own.

You want me to bow to convention

or to jealousy, or whatever it is,

and throw away a woman I loved

who wants to make a family for us.

Why?

Lota, a child is forever.

No, we are forever.

We are forever.

You got to have a little faith.

Hmm?

Not everything is so... brittle.

Brittle?

Some things don't shatter or break...

Some things get stronger.

Where did you learn to speak such good English?

By reading your poems, honey, how else?

Come on.

Like it?

Well, it's just another city full of sweaty Cucarachas.

Like this...

Or like this?

I think the wider.

Higher?

No, no higher. That's good...

You're the boss.

You look ravishing.

Come with me, please.

- Salud. - Salud.

What?

- What? - Stop.

What?

Nobody is looking.

We should go.

You see.

I'm so glad you kept the trees.

That's why I had to blow up the mountain.

In New York I survived in a dark box.

Not any more.

You have sunlight from here to there.

Come in. Come in, my flower.

It's perfect.

It's all yours.

Better write something good.

I bet you will.

Thank you.

It's heaven.

How do you like the flowers?

Beautiful.

Any news about the baby?

Joana is looking.

OK.

A letter from Robert Lowell.

Didn't he win the Pulitzer?

Yes.

I miss him terribly.

We used to meet quite often so he could rip my work to shreds.

Mmm...

And where did these meetings take place?

Oh, no... it's not like that, Lota.

My God.

No, we'd meet by the boat pond in Central Park.

Funny, I know that boat pond very well.

My father took me there when I was young.

You know the little boat of mine?

It was a present from him.

But he had a real one too, and we used to go sailing,

Never mind... Boats was all we had in common.

Silver...

Silver...

Silver stars in your...

Shooting stars...

The shooting stars in your long hair...

The shooting stars in your black hair...

The shooting stars in your black hair,

flocking in bright formation...

Black hair, flocking where...

So straight so soon.

Cookie!

Any white hairs back there?

Like falling stars, rare and beautiful.

The shooting stars in your black hair

In bright formation are flocking...

That was private!

You left it in the kitchen.

No, I forgot it in the kitchen.

When I want you to read something, I'll show it to you.

It wasn't ready!

I loved it.

It's magnificent.

Ow.

Do it again.

Do it again.

I think it should go over there.

No, Cookie, don't you remember?

It goes over here.

So you have more space to move once you open this boxes.

Happy?

It's a beautiful desk.

Thank you, Dona Lota.

I'll charge you later, Miss Bishop.

Elizabeth.

It's OK, I'm not drunk, I'm just crying in English.

Cookie.

Cookie.

Cookie soaked in alcohol.

OK, we'll walk you back to the house, OK?

Mary...

Mary, take an arm, please.

I'd love to, right off the body.

I told you I can't drink.

Really? Who'd have guessed it.

You smell nice.

What's that medicine called that makes you stop drinking?

- Antabuse. - Right.

Do they have that in this godforsaken country?

Of course.

I need to take it again.

Yes, I think you do.

Did I ever tell you, I hate babies?

I had no idea.

What a pity; you'd make such a good mother.

Awful little things.

And you'll be what to this baby?

I'll be Grandma... Grandma Lota.

And you'll be Grandma Cookie.

Grandma?

No, no...

I'll be Auntie... by marriage.

And I'll be Mom.

OK.

Maybe this isn't such a good idea.

Of course it is.

Help!

Help me!

Help!

Help me!

Stop!

Mom!

- Help! - Mommy!

Mommy, mommy!

Give me the bottle.

Give me the bottle.

Son of a bitch, Cookie.

Into that world inverted

Where left is always right

Where the shadows are really the body

And we stay awake...

Where the heavens are shallow

As the see is now deep

And you love me...

Into that world inverted

Where left is always right

Where the shadows are really the body

Where we stay awake all night...

That is like we imagine knowledge to be...

Dark, clear,

Moving, utterly free

Drawn from the cold, hard, mouth of the world

Drive from the rocky breasts forever

Flowing and flown.

Pretend you're floating on a wild river

and you're very, very scared.

Elizabeth, this telegram arrived for you.

Open it.

No, I can't.

Telegrams are always bad news.

- Give it to me. - Don't.

I'll open it.

Sweetheart, please.

Stop it!

Stop it!

I'll open it.

- Cookie... - What?

You're scaring me.

You won the Pulitzer... for "North and South."

You won the Pulitzer Prize!

Miss Bishop!

Miss Bishop!

Miss Elizabeth Bishop,

Ambassador James Clamenton, and his wife Mrs. Maridan.

Miss Bishop, it's a real privilege

to have you here with us tonight.

Thank you. It's an honor to be here.

Shall we?

When I was in college and stayed up late,

they punished me for being 'bohemian.'

Here in Brazil you all stay up late,

and your best beer is called Bohemian.

I have always felt alien.

Here in Brazil I am an alien.

I was orphaned young and have always felt homeless.

So far away from America,

I should feel more alien and more homeless than ever,

but you treat me like a sister,

and I have never felt more at home in all my life.

Thank you.

Now you have the Pulitzer...

what else do you want from life?

The Nobel Prize for literature.

What about you, Carlos? What do you want?

I want to be president. I will be president of Brazil.

Just Brazil?

In fact, today I took the first step.

The UDN Party invited me to be their candidate for governor,

and I accepted.

It will be announced tomorrow.

- I hope you win. - Thank you.

- Here is... - A toast...

To the future governor of the State of Guanabara.

Cheers.

- Thank you. - You're welcome.

Excuse me.

Miss Bishop.

Jose Eduardo... It's an honor.

Thank you.

I liked "North and South" a lot.

Thank you again.

And I'm also so glad

my daughter's taste in Americans is improving.

You're lucky to have a father.

Knock it off, Cookie, OK?

That's the father you have.

Well, if you don't stop, I will uncork this in your eye.

- No! - Yes. Yes, I will.

Don't you do that!

That really hurt.

That? That was nothing.

Go on then. Try me.

Oh, my God...

I've never made love to a Pulitzer Prize winner.

I think I've already had more than enough.

Just a sip, for us.

You celebrated with the whole city.

It's my turn.

Hmm?

Hello.

Oh... Cal?

Cal, who is paying for this call?

Yes, yes, it was tonight.

Precise observation

combined with a free-roaming imagination.

I'll take it.

That's better than

"observations broken into lines."

Yes, you did!

Yes you did say that!

Don't deny it.

He did?

He called you?

Lota...

Darling.

Can you believe Aldous Huxley loved my book?

I loved your book too.

I wrote a poem for you.

Do you want to hear it?

Um hmm.

Close, close

All night the lovers keep

They turn together in their sleep

Close as two pages in a book

That read each other in the dark

Each knows all the other knows

Learned by heart from head to toes

Do you like it?

Lota?

I love you, Lota.

Guess what? Carlos wants me...

Sorry, darling. I'm just... right in the middle.

Oh.

Lota!

The New Yorker wants me to write poems for them

on a regular basis.

Wow, that's fantastic!

Don't they pay really well too?

Yes, yes, it's all marvelous.

So, what's the problem?

I don't know...

It's a commitment.

You don't like commitments?

I already have a commitment... to pessimism.

A pessimist is never disappointed.

Carlos wants me to go to Rio to help him in his campaign.

He wants your money.

I'm sorry...

That was totally unnecessary.

And not true.

No, not true.

My idea was to write a poem

based on some of my favorite Brazilian expressions.

So it is true,

you are the queen of the black coconut candy,

but still your cow is stuck in the swamp.

You ask me to break a branch for you,

but still from on top of the dry meat.

You've always pulled the sardine toward yourself,

and yanked on my sack like a bellringer.

But now your luck has changed

and even the urubu flying beneath you craps on your head.

It was you who said,

"Pepper in someone else's eye is such sweet refreshment!"

So, help you?

No, amiga. Go comb a monkey.

He loved my ideas...

And we are going to build a park.

You're magnificent.

I know.

I'll be in charge of all creative of decisions,

and... supervise the entire construction of the park.

I'm so happy for you.

We need a drink.

Yes.

I'm going to ask Mary to work with me.

She needs the money,

and I need somebody I can trust.

Hello, Elizabeth.

Good afternoon, Carlos. Good to see you.

Hey, hey, Cookie.

- Is everything all right? - Yeah, yeah.

Mary.

Hello, Elizabeth.

I... brought a surprise.

Thank you, thank you,

but Mary already took care of lunch.

Thank you anyway.

Please go through the park, if you wouldn't mind.

I live on 43rd and Madison Avenue.

Elizabeth.

The male biceps...

Meet my Nubian prince and saviour, Lota,

he who bore me down from Purgatory.

Wait, wait.

Let's go. Careful.

Hi, Auntie Elizabeth.

Hello, sweetie.

How was school?

I hate being the new girl.

Oh...

Well, you'll be back at Samambaia soon.

I don't like Mommy to work.

You have to go eat.

Are you drinking whiskey again?

Is she asleep?

Out like a light.

Did you tell Clara I drink?

Your drinking is not a secret to anyone...

It was to Clara. Did you tell her?

Please, please.

Let's not ruin dinner.

Maybe she just overheard something.

Kids have big ears.

She shouldn't have heard anything.

She's a child, and one I'm terribly fond of,

and I'd appreciate if you wouldn't poison her against me.

I'm concerned about my daughter

living under the same roof as a drunk.

Mary, that's enough!

Elitist!

Anything that's new or they haven't seen before,

they call elitist!

This country doesn't deserve you.

Maybe we should get out of Brazil.

People keep talking about a coup.

That's what we need!

I can't believe you're saying that.

This president is a disaster.

Even so, he was democratically elected.

There has to be a process.

This is the process, Elizabeth!

We are in South America!

Do you want live under a communist regime?

Do you?

Maybe we should take a vacation.

How dare you demean me like that?

- What? - Vacation? Now?

- Actually... - Why not?

After all, it's not like I'm writing great poetry.

I'm just a glorified gardener!

I won't abandon my country... or my park!

Joana!

Lota... Are you hurt?

Are you OK?

I'm fine. Everything is fine.

Where are you?

I'm at the Palace with Carlos.

The palace?

Yes, we are celebrating.

As Tom Jobim says,

"Brazil is not for beginners..."

How can one live in a place where stamps come unglued,

soap melts almost before you can use it,

rivers run too fast to the sea?

I would like to understand this unbearable joy Brazilians have,

this constant urge to celebrate.

And then there's your melancholy,

it's drama,

it's flamboyance,

it's abandon.

To a North American, particularly one like me,

it's... out of proportion, excessive.

Kennedy's assassination...

Such mourning, such outpourings of grief.

The doormen,

cab drivers, cleaning ladies...

Why? What is it you lost?

But when the military coup happened

and you lost your freedom,

I was there, I saw it;

you went on playing soccer on the beach.

The longer you stay in one place,

the less you understand it.

Well, anyway...

thanks for coming.

Have fun. I know you will.

Bon appetit.

These are the people I work with.

It isn't funny to me.

I'm sorry, I just got lost.

You got drunk.

I'm not drunk.

You want me to be indulgent with you.

I won't be.

To me, indulgence is a lack of esteem,

a sign of disdain.

You better go back to Samambaia for a while

and sober up.

Cal...

You see the bird?

I got an offer from New York University

to teach a semester there in the fall.

Really?

It'd only be for a couple of months,

and I think it might be kind of fun.

Impossible...

I need you here.

Stay one more day.

Cookie, you know I can't.

What about our garden? It's in desperate need of you.

See you back here Friday for your birthday.

Happy Birthday, Aunt Elizabeth.

Thank you, Clara.

You're welcome.

Happy Birthday, Elizabeth.

Thank you, Mary.

This arrived from your friend Lowell.

Oh, thank you.

Here you go.

Lota had to stay in town for a meeting with Lacerda.

She'll be up as soon as she can.

Can you say good night?

Good night, Aunt Elizabeth.

Good night, darling.

Cookie.

Cookie!

Cookie.

Cookie!

Cookie!

Cookie.

I don't drink because things go wrong, Lota.

I want to drink every minute of every day.

Things going wrong just gives me the excuse

I've been looking for.

But why?

Because if I don't have what I want...

I'm lonely and sad.

And if I do have what I want...

I'm sure I'm going to lose it.

And the waiting is unbearable.

I think I'm gonna buy you a hat like that.

Having you all to myself here in Ouro Preto

was the best birthday present.

Wait.

That's how I want the light in the park to be.

That would be magical.

It will be magical.

Wait and see.

By the way, when we go back,

I want you to write a book about the park.

Lota...

I've been thinking about the offer from NYU,

teaching for a semester.

I told you I needed you.

It would only be for a semester and you could visit...

Wait...

Did you already accept the job?

Answer me. Did you?

Yes.

So you came on this trip knowing you were leaving me?!

I'm not leaving you; it's just for a semester.

How dare you... after all I've given you!

You...

You want sympathy, but you give none back.

You want to be loved, but remain completely elusive!

I'm not elusive.

So it's not a strategy, you're simply indifferent!

That's not true.

Do you realize that you never said, "I love you"?

You can't expect someone who was raised in a desert

to swim like a fish.

Oh, what a pretty turn of phrase!

I don't find it...

Actually, I did say it once.

Oh, you did? When was it?

You were asleep. It was after the Pulitzer...

I was asleep?!

Thank you so much!

This is hilarious!

This is poetic justice!

I've even got the fucking poet... or... rather I don't!

Lota...

Please don't make a scene.

It is just a semester.

Do you really believe that you can handle

one whole semester without me to keep you in line?

You'll be so drunk you won't know where you're teaching!

Live without me?

You're not strong enough.

You can't survive without me!

Don't do this.

OK, let me guide you through the first week.

Write a poem, a sonnet, about...

how to fuck up a relationship.

But only one page,

because it doesn't... take very long.

That's it...

Run, as you always do, you drunk!

No.

She packed two bags,

kissed Joana goodbye, and left for the airport.

I didn't just attack her, I humiliated her.

That was my mistake.

Your mistake would be to chase after her.

I think you should have a little pride, a little strength.

I don't know, maybe you're right.

That's why she fell in love with me, right?

At the end of an affair, there really are only two cures.

Here we go.

One is to simply endure the pain until it ends,

time heals all wounds, etcetera, etcetera.

The other...

is to dissolve old memories in lavish doses of alcohol

while vigorously fornicating with anything that moves.

Truth is, I'm happy to be here Cal,

and so happy to see you.

But I miss her.

Things get in your blood.

Miss Elizabeth Bishop...

The faculty.

It's a pleasure to meet you.

Pleasure to meet you too.

Welcome to New York.

Thank you very much.

I don't really know what I'm doing here,

because I don't really believe

you can teach anyone to write poetry.

What I can do is to train the poet's eye.

Nice place.

Still need to do a lot off work.

Here.

Exile is only a luxury for those who steal before they leave...

Something I forgot to do.

Do you need somewhere to stay?

No...

No, good God, no. I'm fine. Thank you.

I can never run for office again,

but here I am... alive.

In these days, that counts as lucky.

I just heard from friends in Rio.

Lota's in the hospital.

What kind of hospital?

She wanted to turn the park into a foundation,

to keep it safe from the government and...

I know that. What kind of hospital?

She failed.

The military threw her aside.

What kind of hospital, Carlos?

A mental hospital...

for depression and breakdown.

My darling Cookie,

I know I was rude,

but surely enough time has passed for you to forgive me.

I finally took your advice about my father,

and I'm so grateful to you for this.

Please answer one of my letters?

Just one.

Why are you here?!

Why didn't you tell me what was happening?

Where is she?

She can't see you, Elizabeth.

- She can't see you! - Take your hands off me!

Yes, I am.

I'm Elizabeth Bishop. How is she?

She's still very depressed.

I want to see her.

She's just starting to recover

and now you want to do this to her all over again?!

She needs to be calm, no stress.

Your name makes her very agitated.

Why don't you go home, get some rest.

We both love Lota,

so tell me honestly... is this because of me?

This one time, Elizabeth, it's not about you.

Think about it...

How could anybody possibly be that confident?

But she thinks you're the cause...

and also the cure.

She is obsessed with you coming back.

She imagines you nursing her through this...

like she nursed you through your alcoholism.

The word through, implying an emergence on the other side,

might be a tad premature.

Elizabeth, if you come back,

she'll probably get a little better.

But if you leave,

she'll crash again...

only worse.

And then it will be your fault.

She was here?

Yes.

And you didn't even tell me!

The doctor wouldn't allow it.

Hello.

Hi, Cookie.

Lota...

How are you?

Much better, thank you.

I want to come and see you.

Are you...

Are you well enough to travel?

Of course I am.

I... I just had a little slip.

But now everything's back the way it was.

There we go.

You should let me carry that for you.

It's OK.

You must be thirsty.

I made some ice tea this morning.

- Here. - Thank you.

You...

You never answered my letters.

I never received any.

That's impossible. I sent you dozens.

Mary...

No.

No, darling.

Not now.

Lota.

Lota.

Lota.

Lota.

Lota.

Lota!

The art of losing isn't hard to master

So many things seem filled with the intent to be lost

That their loss is no disaster

Lose something every day

Accept the fluster of lost door keys

The hour badly spent

The art of losing isn't hard to master

Then practice losing farther, losing faster

Places, and names

And where it was you meant to travel

None of these will bring disaster

I lost my mother's watch

And look...

My last, or next-to-last, of three loved houses went

The art of losing isn't hard to master

I lost two cities, lovely ones, and vaster

Some realms I owned

Two rivers, a continent

I miss them

But it wasn't a disaster

Even losing you

The joking voice, a gesture I love

I shan't have lied

It's evident

The art of losing's not too hard to master

Though it may look like

Write it...

Like disaster.