Original subtitles

Damn!

Damn!

Always the same, stupid cupboard.

Whitey.

Whitey.

Whitey!

Come on, Whitey, get up.

It's time to go to school.

Whitey.

Whitey, get out of bed! It's 8 o'clock.

- Whitey - I'm coming.

Don't rub too hard. You'll rub your pretty face off.

Leave me alone, retard.

That's enough!

Why can't he leave me alone? I haven't done anything.

Calm down or you'll feel my hand on your leg. Pick that up.

See, it's not 8 o'clock yet.

- Watch where you're walking, idiot. - Be quiet!

- He bloody well does it on purpose. - Don't swear.

- He still did it on purpose. - Be quiet, I said.

Or aren't your ears working?

You've got too much to say, lad.

It's time you learnt what work is. Come straight home after school.

I always come straight home, don't I, Mum?

I'm not going to repeat myself.

You have to be in time to go to farmer Coene.

- Me? - Start shaking now. Farmer Coene.

Hein, that's enough. D'you always have to tease him?

You heard what I said, eh, Whitey?

It's not fair, damn it.

I always have to work, slaving away and sweating like a pig.

Come on, we're going in.

Are you up to your tricks again?

Shall I do it too?

We were learning about

the preparations for the battle of the Groeninge brook near Kortrijk.

Also known as the Battle of the Golden Spurs,

because so many Frenchmen fell with golden spurs on their feet.

Open your books at page 31.

A brook that flowed through a swampy meadow...

Stand up, all of you.

- Hello, master. Hello, boys. - Hello, Father.

- Sit down. - Glad it's almost holiday time?

Yes, Father.

Lets see what we still know from our last catechism lesson.

- Because catechism is the basic laws... - Dries, don't move.

I'll give you a pear. I'll give you two, three.

You there. Curly. How many works of mercy are there?

Two works, physical and ritual.

- Ritual? - Spiritual.

Very good. Very good.

You, Whitey. How many works of charity are there?

Seven. First, feeding the hungry, second, quenching the thirsty,

- third, clothing the naked... - OK. OK.

- What about my pears? - Put your hands behind your back.

They're Flippen pears. You can't nibble those.

... Our Lord Jesus, of course.

Christ came down onto Earth to show us the way to Heaven.

But the world would not accept Him. He was nailed to the cross and He died.

- Who by? Who did it? - Yes, lad?

The socialists, damn them.

- Father, could you come and see? - What's the matter?

Something serious has happened out in the field.

Well, Coene, what's happened?

As friendly as ever. Old grump.

Well?

Sit down.

Lad, run home quickly, your father's had an accident.

Get out your history book and learn about the Battle of the Golden Spurs

- from page 14 to... - 1302.

Give me those marbles. Stop messing around.

I spend all my time on you all to no avail.

All of you, take your slates and write down your multiplication tables.

All of them. Understand?

- How many marbles have you still got? - Forty.

- Want to swap them for my belt? - OK.

What was that?

Who did that?

- Whitey did it. - Yes, it was Whitey.

- I couldn't help it, Sir. - It's always the same.

You're a right pest.

Read the whole chapter about the Battle of the Golden Spurs, understood?

Well, Pol? Have you been playing with marbles, too?

My God, books.

The merchant from Antwerp.

Conscience.

Baas Gansendonck.

H. Conscience.

The conscript. The conscript?

The Lion of Flanders.

Conscience. They are all by the same one.

A troop of knights rode silently

through the fields of Roeselare.

The clanking of their armour

and the heavy steps of their horses

frightened the peaceful inhabitants of the woods.

But the Fleming grabbed him round the waist

and hit his head so mercilessly against a tree

that he collapsed to the ground and felt nothing.

Right, Verheyden. Lines. In your best handwriting.

Whitey.

I'll get you for this.

Is that writing lines?

Call that writing lines?

I was about to clean the board and I saw that book.

- Did you like it? - Yes, Sir.

It's not a book for brats like you, but it doesn't matter just this once.

- Go home. - Bye, Sir.

- Hello, Pier. - Hello, Whitey.

Pier, you've got to go and see the master this afternoon. It's serious.

Kobe? What's he done now? Wait till I get hold of him.

The master says you've got to go into school to talk about Tjeef.

- That's a taster of what's to come. - What have I done?

Go on, sit down.

Maybe that'll help you to stop stuttering.

- Wasn't that Whitey? - Damn.

- If you don't keep an eye on him... - Up we go.

Weren't you supposed to come straight home?

Come here.

That'll teach you. And now go and see farmer Coene, without any tea.

He's waiting for those potatoes.

- Farmer Coene can go to hell. - Don't be rude. Get going.

Come here, lad. Let me comb your hair. You have to arrive neat and tidy.

- Coene? You act as if he's royalty. - And be polite.

Come on. Come on.

Hey, I suppose you came round via Averbode?

No, boss Coene. The master asked me to help him.

- He keeps you talking. - We don't do any talking here.

We work. Put those sacks against the wall.

- And then come inside. - Right away.

Don't put that horse in the stable. I've got to go out.

- Did you put those sacks where I asked? - Yes, both of them neatly in a row.

- Listen, Fransoos. - My name's not Fransoos.

- And why isn't it Fransoos? - Because it's Lewie, that's why.

Fransoos or Lewie. Makes no difference to me.

Lewie, I talked to your father.

And what I heard wasn't very good.

Still, there's a lot of work to be done.

And your father told me that if I keep a close eye on you you can work hard.

- Did he say that? - You're coming here tomorrow, to work.

Pardon?

Your father didn't tell me you were deaf.

You're a bit of a skinny lad.

But I'll do your father a favour and give you a try.

From now on I'll expect you every Thursday

and Saturday afternoon.

- And every day in the holiday. - What?

Haven't you got ears?

Come tomorrow, right after high mass. Come with your brother Teun.

It's not Teun, it's Hein.

People today only think about messing around. Liza too.

What are those antics for? That's how accidents happen.

Liza.

Inside.

Aren't you ashamed?

Workers today. Come on, get to work, all of you.

- What was it like at farmer Coene's? - Awful.

Try to make the best of it.

- Do your best and I'll give you 5 cents. - Must I work myself to death for that?

Whitey, lad.

Here, peel these potatoes and put them on the stove.

Hey.

These potatoes are rotten.

Well done. Did you put salt on them?

Salt? I completely forgot.

Good job I remembered.

- Learn your lesson later. Lay the table. - Hey.

I'm starving.

- Aren't the potatoes ready yet? - They're cooking.

Did you do that?

- Did you put salt on them? - Salt? I completely forgot.

Porridge again.

Is it true that Tist had a stroke in the field?

Yes, Munte was there.

It quite upset me. Tist wasn't a bad lad.

He was a good lad, always worked hard.

You can't work hard enough for Coene. Tist couldn't keep up.

He just collapsed.

Lads are going to the factory again.

Sooi van Penneke Pastoor and Gust van Torrekens.

- I thought... - You can forget about the town.

Did farmer Coene say anything about your wages?

One thousand francs in half-a-cent coins.

Aren't the potatoes ready yet?

I don't want any. I'm not hungry.

That's the first time Whitey has said he's not hungry.

- So eat before you get hungry. - I'm not hungry.

I've had stomach ache all day.

It's from working, I think.

Come here. Where are you? If I catch you... Little bastard.

Brat.

Stop, stop, stop.

Listen, lads. The first part is allegro.

That means fast, lively.

The second part is largo. Slow, wide. Like the rear of a horse.

Right, from the beginning.

One, two, one.

If only we could go and play in Diest...

In Diest.

- That would be great. - Leuven, lad. Leuven.

You should think big.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

We'll have to work hard for the fair.

That's notes there, not fly droppings.

We ought to stop more often for a drink. I'm dying of thirst.

- Marie, Sofie. - It's always difficult to start with.

It's difficult because we've got new instruments.

They are so shiny they hurt my eyes.

I think it'll all be a lot better when we march.

Marching and playing are two things, don't forget that.

Someone who plays music and walks along at the same time

is, in fact, also playing with his feet.

- Music should move. - Nand, let's try it.

It's worth trying.

Where are you going? We haven't finished yet.

Lads, come on. Make a bit of an effort. We'll start from the largo.

Good rehearsal?

Hey, have you ears dropped off?

There's so much whining going on in there, I don't feel like it any more.

- Are you coming? - Where to?

Don't know. Outside.

Yes.

The rehearsal's not that way. It's that way.

Don't do that here, Hein. Someone will see.

- Or Whitey. - If he says anything, I'll belt him.

You shouldn't say that. He's a nice lad.

He's a strange lad.

He's always a nuisance. Always.

I don't mind if he does go and work in the factory. He'll change fast enough.

Hein, what are you saying? It'll be hard enough for him later as it is.

No harder than for the rest of us.

I'd rather talk to you about something other than our Whitey.

Once evening had fallen, the landowner said to his steward:

Call them over and pay them.

The last to come to the vineyard received one penny.

But those who were there first also received one penny.

And they started complaining.

Sir, they said, that's not fair.

Those who only worked one hour are getting as much as us,

and we slaved away all day in the heat.

And the landowner said:

Friends, did you agree to one penny?

Yes, sir, they said. And did you receive your penny?

Yes, sir, they said. Well, he said, what is there to discuss?

If I want to give those who arrived last the same as you,

that's my affair. Are you cross at me for being kind-hearted?

What does this parable tell us?

Firstly, that we cannot go back on our given word.

Secondly, that we mustn't be jealous.

Jealousy is so ugly.

If you are jealous of what someone else earns,

that is ugly. That's no way to live.

It eats away at you.

And thirdly, that in the eyes of Our Lord,

and you all realised that the landowner was Our Lord,

that in the eyes of Our Lord we are all equal.

The first and the last, the rich and the poor.

And he will cancel out the unfortunate inequality found in this world

with the equality of his great love in the hereafter.

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. Amen.

Food.

Come and get it.

Whitey, d'you want to come swimming?

D'you want to come swimming?

Lewie, d'you want to come?

Have you come to help too, Wannes?

The doctor said I had to be careful of hard work and weak beer.

- And where does this doctor live? - Straight ahead.

But turn off in time.

That's what happens when you look at me like that.

Does it make you feel uncomfortable?

A bit.

- D'you want a sandwich, Wannes? - If there's curd cheese on it.

Here you are.

What are you up to, you thieving poacher?

Nothing. Just passing by.

I thought, I'll go and see how Tist is.

And you? Finished flirting with the women?

Father!

Stop flirting with the workers. Go on.

- Damn. Haven't you left yet? - Drop dead.

- What did you say? - I'm leaving. Don't worry.

- I'm leaving in good health, unlike Tist. - Go away.

All you can do is poach and drink.

They should put you away for life in Leuven prison.

Are you still eating? Come on, back to work.

Come on, I said.

Bloody hell, where is that little bastard?

- Where have you been? - Whitey, shouldn't you be at work?

Change the subject, quickly.

Help.

Peer is drowning.

- He almost bloody well drowned. - Damn, my mother.

- Have you seen Whitey? - No, we haven't seen him.

Who's that there then?

That's none of your bloody business.

That's Mie Boot's Nand.

You wait until you get home, lad.

She took my clothes with her.

- You don't need to cry about it. - You can wait until it's dark.

If you go the roundabout way maybe no one will see you.

Curly, can't you go home and get me some clothes?

Clothes? Ma's home and then I won't get back out again.

I've only got one pair of trousers and I'm wearing them.

Whitey, you don't need to be shy with a body like that.

- How much did that costume cost? - Your flies are open.

I think he's too hot.

- Can I have some more soup? - Leave some for Whitey.

You take too much pity on Lewie. He can do what he likes.

Wait until the little sod gets home. Then you'll see.

Pass the salt.

I think there's someone in the barn.

- It can't carry on like this. - There he is, dressed for dinner.

- Get dressed and sit up at the table. - I'm not hungry.

Do as your mother tells you.

And stop dawdling. Eat.

- I'm not hungry. - Eat, I said.

- And the soup is cold. - Cross yourself first.

My money. All my money's gone.

You lost a lot more today than just money.

- All my money. - Will you start eating!

- It was more than five cents. - Eat, Whitey.

It was five cents.

- The soup is cold. - Stop whining.

- That's hot. - You've just been in the Demer.

I'm going to drown myself. Then you'll be rid of me.

- Are you going to do that naked, too? - You'll get a shock when I'm dead.

Just say if you want cold potatoes.

Eat them yourself.

Silence. When I say silence, I mean silence.

- But I didn't say anything. - I said 'silence'.

School is almost over and you still don't know anything.

Look at him standing there.

- D'you know now, clever clogs? - I'm still working it out.

Six.

Five.

You'd be better walking naked along the street, ugly.

I heard about that.

I'll take you in hand this afternoon. Then you'll remember your lesson.

Then you'll be in trouble with father because I've got to go to work.

Can you remember? Give it to father Ambrosius and say:

Here you are, Father, with the compliments of farmer Coene.

Understand?

- I think so. - Don't think, know.

Make sure you don't lose your trousers again.

Liza, Hein says hello.

- Did farmer Coene send you? - Yes, Father.

Did you carry that parcel all by yourself in this heat?

- I've always been tough. - Then you must be thirsty.

Would you like a glass of water or would you prefer beer?

What sort of beer have you got?

- Bet they call you Whitey, don't they? - Yes, Father.

That's because of my hair but my real name is Lewie.

Lewie Verheyden.

- I suppose you got it from your father? - Yes, he's called Verheyden, too.

And how's it going at school, Whitey?

So-so.

The master always wants me to learn things just when I don't feel like it.

But in a couple of weeks it'll be finished.

And then?

Then I have to go and work on the land, like everyone else.

At home?

No, at farmer Coene's. The old grump.

Nis, you'll never believe it. It's all clean and white there.

- As clean and as white as in heaven. - Have you ever seen heaven?

And all the corridors are white. And you can't hear anything.

- Only the monks singing like angels. - Angels are girls.

And they've got a garden full of flowers.

Strong beer.

And a room as big as a church full of books.

Books, millions of books. And I was allowed to hold one.

That's enough. Go to sleep. I've got to go to work early.

There are books there that are five hundred years old.

In Latin and French.

And almanacs. Forecasting the weather for all over the world.

And they also make books themselves in their printing factory.

And they are all friendly.

Nis, would you like to live in an abbey?

Are you mad?

I thought...

Maybe, I don't know, they could let me help there a bit.

Then you'll have to become a monk or a priest.

How do you become a priest?

Would it help if I became altar boy first?

You haven't got the face for it. Go to sleep or you'll end up on the floor.

Her breasts curved elegantly,

restrained by the silk.

Most had a bird of prey on their hand.

Among all

these noblewomen there was one whose beauty and splendour

put the rest in the shade.

Her name was Machteld. She was Robrecht's younger daughter.

She was incredibly beautiful.

The bloom on her cheeks was so charming

that, next to her, the finest rose petal looked like a dirty stain.

- Her eyes were as blue as the sky. - Stupid Whitey. Pay attention.

Her lips were as red as scarlet velvet ribbons.

Their number grew steadily.

Then Jan Breydel climbed onto a wagon which just happened to be there

and waved his axe above his head like a windmill.

Flanders the Lion. Everything Wallonian is vile. Kill it.

The Flemish crowds pressed violently forward towards the retreating enemies

and beat the fallen knights with clubs and axes.

Thousands of horses lay in the kneaded earth

and the bodies of the enemy covered the ground.

Those were bloody good battles.

Friar William of Saeftinge stood by the fallen chancellor Pierre Flotte

and the Frenchman begged for mercy.

Friar William laughed derisively and hacked him in the back of his neck.

- Cor! - So that, robbed of his life,

he fell with his face in the spilt blood.

- Makes you thirsty. - Have a bite of my apple.

I would've liked to have been there.

The mace.

Early tomorrow we will destroy the evil enemy from the south

with our axes.

Valiant people of Flanders, remember the glorious deeds of your forefathers.

My noble lord and master, we will fight for you and die for you.

- The Frenchman is already afraid. - I'll make mincemeat out of them.

Long live Belzen, damn it.

By this dear earth, which I wish to carry in my heart

today I shall perish or be victorious.

- Starvelings. - Come on, we're off.

Noble knights of Flanders and surrounding areas, to arms.

The enemy is approaching, our country is in trouble. Raise the alarm!

The Flemings are there. Raise the alarm!

The Flemings are coming.

Slaves of France. Prepare to fight.

You are going to get a beating.

Forsworn knights, you are about to feel the lion's claw, my claw.

Attack.

Flanders the Lion. Everything Wallonian is vile. Kill it.

One, two, one, two.

Attack.

- Hey, Whitey. - Out of the way, haven't got time now.

Can we join in?

- Are you Flemings? - Of course.

Get over here then, we are suffering heavy losses.

Flanders the Lion.

Everything Wallonian is vile.

General, your wife has been captured by the French.

That, too.

Noble Flemish fighters, gather round your lion

because we are going to free my beloved. Attack.

I'm a Fleming, Whitey.

- So say Shield and Friend. - Shilt and Fend.

Bastard.

Lad. What's happened?

Father. Father.

Dirty Fleming.

- Lewie Verheyden, what's all this? - The French are bastards.

What did you say?

A Fleming doesn't kneel before a Frenchman.

I'll show you how sharp my sword is.

Father!

Whitey, you are fighting the priest!

Stop it. Stop it, damn you.

The Fleming doesn't kneel before a Frenchman, only before God.

You'll be sorry.

Leave it alone. The sexton'll be out to see what's up.

Damn. Stupid cupboard.

Books in the church. You don't need to be in that cupboard.

Jan Breydel, your mother said you have to go to farmer Coene after mass.

Coene. I'd much rather work for the monks.

The Count of Flanders? Make sure you serve mass properly first.

When I do this and kneel, d'you know what you have to do?

Yes, yes, Father.

- Whitey? - Yes?

The sprinkler.

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. Amen.

Dearly beloved.

A few days ago I was sitting on the train to Hasselt.

Opposite me was a man reading his newspaper.

The man looked like a labourer,

from a farming family.

He was wearing patched but clean working clothes.

But the newspaper he was reading, dearly beloved,

I know the name of that newspaper.

You all know the name of that newspaper.

I will not say the name of that dirty rag,

that is the instrument of the godless, the heretics and the Freemasons,

here in this place.

I put out my finger to tap the man on his shoulder

when I saw that he was asleep.

Not a peaceful sleep, no.

His face was distorted into a demented grimace.

The man hadn't fallen asleep.

He'd passed away.

But he wasn't resting in Christ,

he'd died reading that terrible newspaper.

Dead.

Dearly beloved,

like many others, this man had become the prey and victim

of foolishness,

degeneration,

of those groups that call themselves socialists.

Those who claim to be the friends of the workers,

who threaten the very foundations of our values, our religion, our morals,

yes, even work itself.

Knives so sharp they hurt your eyes and good cigars.

I don't know how come, but all of it is almost for free.

All of it.

- How much are your books? - You can't afford them.

- When can I have a book? - Come back when you're richer.

Look at the lovely things I've got.

Pipes for the girls, marbles for the boys.

- Aren't you buying anything, lad? - No, lad.

- Why not? - Because not.

Why aren't you buying anything?

None of your business.

He was given a cent for show but he's got to give it back.

Stupid idiots.

Bloody hell, Whitey, come here. Come here.

Get up.

Miser. Slave-driver.

- What are you doing here? - Taking off my best clothes.

In that cupboard? What are you looking for in there?

The guards should make sure they don't fight at the annual fair again.

Not that anything can be done about it.

We won't let the windows of the town hall be broken again.

A famous orchestra is coming this year. I organised it.

- Are you back again? - I've got my money.

What did you say? I didn't hear what you said.

- I want to buy three books. - Where'd the money come from? Stolen?

- No, no. I worked hard for it. - Jan, don't tease the lad.

Give him the books, you old fool.

Lad, shouldn't you be at work?

Yes, father. In a minute.

If only Hein were here.

Teun?

Teun? Where's that little Whitey of yours now?

My name's Hein.

Little bastard. Dirty thief.

I'll knock you into the middle of next week!

- No, don't. Don't. - Pray, damn you.

He's been behaving a bit strangely recently.

First he wants to be an altar boy and then he gets into terrible fights.

- I think he's possessed by the devil. - D'you think so?

- Stealing money. Are you possessed? - Shall we go on a pilgrimage for him?

To St. Cornelius. Everything's almost in.

St. Cornelius only helps with bed-wetting.

- How about you coming, too? - Arms up.

They can leave early by train. I'll give them some sandwiches.

I don't know.

Good morning. Tickets, please.

Tickets, please.

Thank you. Ah, Whitey.

Tickets, please.

Sir, St. Cornelius' chapel, please.

Are you on a pilgrimage to cure bed-wetting?

No, no. Make sure you don't wet your bed.

Watch it, whippersnapper.

Straight ahead at the exit and turn right there. You can't miss it.

We've taken the wrong turning.

Comrades, it's now or never. This is the third day we're out on the street

and still there's no concession.

It's as if we don't exist.

We have to keep it up. We're letting the bosses know

that we aren't peasants that they can do what they want with.

NO MORE HUNGER.

And if we don't get what we want we'll strike as long as it takes.

We have to carry on striking. We've got nothing to lose.

Let the bosses try doing it.

Can't we stay and watch? They're going to start fighting in a minute.

- Why didn't we stay and watch? - Be quiet, Whitey.

Why do I have to be quiet?

- Are they socialists? - Shut your stupid face.

Socialists always cause trouble. Always.

- Why? - They're never satisfied.

Things aren't easy for you at home, either.

That's not the same thing. They want to destroy everything.

They don't believe in anyone, not even in Our Lord.

That's who the priest was talking about.

They say they're our friends but they're devils.

They don't like it that some earn more than others.

D'you think it's right that farmer Coene earns more than Dad?

Stupid peasant, look where you're walking.

Oh, stop going on.

You should listen to what they say in church on Sunday.

How can I help you?

Well, Father, it's difficult to explain.

- Wetting the bed, I suppose? - No.

No. What for then? For convulsions? Mumps?

Measles, wickedness, earwigs.

We can't control Lewie any more.

- We think it's nerves. - We'll see what we can do.

You should be ashamed, coming here for a beer.

- -Calm down. - You're a fine one to say that.

- Hitting people like they're animals. - Calm down. Not in my bar.

If you want to fight, go outside.

Calm down, they're not worth it.

Can't we have a beer in peace? We're human, too.

- I wasn't sure of that just now. - That's enough.

If we'd wanted, we could've let you see something worth seeing.

- That's enough. - Well, it's bloody true, isn't it?

- Come on, sit down. - Sit down.

- Staying sitting down. - Yes, OK.

That's enough now. Have a drink and leave each other alone.

- And give us something, too. - What would you like?

- Two glasses of beer. - Are you out having a good time?

- No, on a pilgrimage to St. Cornelius. - My head always hurts.

So does mine, but that's because of those men.

That's enough now. Don't start again.

- Where are you from? - Us? We're from Sichem.

It's the annual fair there soon.

Yes, party time. And the girls are lovely there, too.

Almost as lovely as you. What's your name?

- Rosette. - That's one of my favourite names.

My name is Hein.

- Give those men there a drink. - Cheers.

That's what I like to hear. Go on, have a drink.

On the gent.

- To the socialists. - To the socialists, Rosette.

- Hein, what are you saying? - Don't interfere.

You're girl crazy. I'll tell Liza you're seeing another girl

and father that you've become a socialist.

SICHEM FAIR.

Where's mother?

- Went to the fair ages ago. - Why didn't she wake me?

I don't know.

Where's my money?

What money?

Mother promised to give me 15 cents.

Come here.

Give it back later.

Little sod.

What was all that about yesterday evening?

- So you came to the fair. - No, I'm still at home.

Look, a frank. They gave it to me at home. Can you change it?

- No, I haven't got any change, either. - Didn't get anything, I suppose?

- I'm going to buy a knife. - Do they sell revolvers?

Stupid little boy.

Well, Liza, where's Hein?

- Is it over? - He had to play in the brass band.

Are you enjoying yourself?

Yes, it's OK.

- Have you been on the merry-go-round? - Yes, but it's for little kids.

- I suppose you're too grown up? - I go to work already.

True. You'll be coming to work for us regularly now.

And if there's a problem, come and tell me.

- I'll help you. - I'll be OK.

- I'm sure you will be. - Still. You never know.

- But don't tell father, eh? - No, it'll be just between ourselves.

Go and enjoy yourself. Wait a moment.

Here, a couple of cents. There's only one fair a year.

Is he touching someone for money again?

- Not at all. I wanted to... - I asked her for some money.

- You pay for everything for her. - You should learn to be quiet.

Come on, I'll treat you to a beer.

That boy's going to give me a nervous breakdown.

It's not always about being disappointed in love

even though women like to hear that

And about the fame brought by war

songs like that are not worth listening to

But I sing of each day and not of sadness

The sun and the rain...

Mum.

- What's the matter? - You forgot my money.

Really? Poor lad. Have you been walking round here with no money?

- The whole time and it's not much fun. - Here you are.

And enjoy yourself. But be home in time for tea.

We know about it all too well in Belgium

In Ghent the weaver is turned into a slave, an animal

by the scum that do nothing themselves

The Wallonians die in misery amid coal and steel,

their bosses earn the dough

And I sing a song in the language of the workers...

- I think they're a lot of troublemakers. - D'you think so?

You can see they are. Look at his hair and his clothes.

I feel like punching him in the face.

I don't sing of pain

I will complain no more, it makes me feel small

There are so many days in which to be happy

Today I'm here in the country air

that's much better than within walls of stone

- Did you have a good time? - Yes. Is something the matter?

Did you have enough money to stay there so long?

Just.

- Give that money back. - Why d'you do it?

- I've only got two. - Wheedling money out of your brother

and then saying you haven't got any. It can't go on like this.

- Go to you room and stay there. - It's always the same here.

It's always my fault. I get more beatings than meals.

I'm fed up. I'm going to end it.

No. Don't do that. Don't do it.

I know another good one.

Middle of winter, snow outside and it's freezing. 15 degrees below zero.

Someone comes into a bar, all wrapped up warm.

He says: Have you got any cold coffee? The barmaid says: Cold coffee?

Yes, cold coffee. She says, yes. Heat it up then, he says.

Lads, a polka. One, two.

No.

No. No.

I've been patient for long enough.

- He's going to work. - He's still a child.

- He's almost 13. - Only in 3 months time.

I was sent into the field when I was only 10.

And if he can't work for farmer Coene, he'll have to find work in the town.

There are enough who go and work in the factory.

Our Lewie?

With the socialists?

Can't we wait a bit?

No, I've made up my mind.

Or to a reform school.

Awful. Terrible.

- Can I buy you a drink? - No thanks, I'll buy my own.

Landlord, a beer.

Liza.

Watch out. You're hurting me.

Hein, watch out. Listen, there's something I want to tell you.

That you love me? You don't have to say it, you have to show it.

- It's not that, it's about Whitey. - I'm fed up hearing about Whitey.

Come here.

Ugly egotist. You only think of yourself.

- Keep your mitts off my daughter. - D'you want a punch in the face?

Home, you!

Go on, go home.

Go home!

And you. Get out of here, down-and-out.

I suppose you think you can do what you like?

Bastards.

Suicide. He's in hospital with 27 fractures to his skull.

He hung himself with elastic.

Hein, lad, you'll lose your girlfriend like that.

Don't worry. There are enough girls in the world.

He told farmer Coene exactly what he thought.

Shame you've lost that inheritance now.

- Say that again. - Shame you've lost that inheritance.

Bastard.

You're doing it again, Whitey.

I couldn't help it.

It's always the same. I work here, slaving away, sweating like a pig.

Bloody hell. Bastards.

What a nerve! I'll get even with them.