Original subtitles

AL DI L� DELLE NUVOLE (1995) CD 2/2

Excuse me.

Sorry to botheryou.

May l?

Thankyou.

I read a strange thing in my magazine.

I want to talk to someone about it.

And you picked me?

You're not French, are you?

No, I'm from New York, but I live here.

Where are you from?

Italy.

- So may l? - Go ahead. I'm "all ears."

Isn't that what they say?

I hope so.

In Mexico...

some scientists hired porters to take them...

to an lncan city in the mountains.

At one point, the porters stopped.

They refused to go on.

The scientists got angry and tried to get them moving.

They couldn't understand the long delay.

After several hours...

the porters set off again.

Finally, their leader decided to explain.

What had happened?

I see you're interested.

Now, very.

He said...

they'd been walking too fast.

They'd left their souls behind.

Their souls?

It's wonderful! It's like us.

We go rushing around...

and lose our souls.

We should wait for them.

To do what?

Everything that seems pointless.

You're still up?

I asked you a friendly question.

Were you with her?

We met briefly.

Since that story about souls in the cafe...

it's been three years.

Some things can't be called off overnight.

For the last time...

it's her or me.

You're late.

Sorry. The traffiic was bad.

Everything's against us.

Look, we've got to talk.

Go ahead...

but caress me at the same time.

Gently.

I've forgotten it all.

Patricia.

Oh, shit.

What's up?

What are you up to?

I've been calling you for two days.

That's a vase to me.

What's a vase to you?

Vase offlowers.

Flowers... colors.

Colors... beauty.

Beauty... Iove.

Everything seems ridiculous.

Love is ridiculous.

It has to be said.

It's an illusion. A trap.

But the trap is mysterious, so we all fall into it.

Like stewed prunes!

You bring me your calm...

after sleeping with her?

I slept alone.

I felt bad.

I was away on a trip.

You know that.

Didn't you take her?

I didn't take anybody.

I loved making love to you.

Go fuckyourself.

You've got a new vocabulary.

Because you're talking gibberish.

Say what you like, but last night...

I realized how much I miss making love to you.

I'll come back ifyou leave her.

I will. I swear.

- When? - Today.

This morning.

Now.

Right now.

Don't leave me. Don't leave me.

Tell me.

Do you still make love behind my back?

I've been saying no to her for three years.

Would she want to?

Probably, yes.

And you've always refused.

Well, yes.

And today?

Did you say yes or no?

I pitied her.

Don't you pity me?

For three years you've been bringing her smell here!

The smell on your clothes. The stale smell ofa cheated woman!

Thanks.

Bye.

You'ne back?

- Where are you? - Somewhene.

What's gotten into you?

- Emptying the house. - It's my funnitune.

- You could leave a note. - You nevendid.

- Because of myjob! - Leaving mestuckat home!

- Where are you? - Don't tryto findme.

Is the lady here?

No, she went out.

I spoke to her about renting the place.

What place?

This one, I think.

I brought the newspaper ad.

It's entirely my wife's idea.

I'm not even sure I agree.

Don't say that or I'll go crazy.

May I explain my situation?

I prefer short stories.

I'll put it in a nutshell.

My husband has been having an affair for three years.

I was patient.

He always said it would pass.

But in fact--

- The doorbell rang. - I didn't hear it.

I'm expecting the furniture.

What furniture? Mine?

My husband's.

So you emptied an apartment too.

What are you going to do?

I don't know.

I guess I'll have to go away again.

Where to?

I have commitments outside Paris.

So you'll cope somehow.

Yes.

But this time I was planning to stay put.

I told her so.

Maybe that's why she went to live with him.

With whom?

The lover.

So you're in a precarious position too.

Right.

It seems to be the thing.

This is her.

She's beautiful.

My wife.

Don't try to fii nd me.

There's a cure for everything.

That's what disturbs me.

May l?

I told you. Don't phone me again.

I wonder why our society needs all these copies ofthings.

Notjust paintings. Copies ofeverything.

Even things like clothes, suitcases, bags, watches.

Originals are very costly.

True.

But in your case, a reproduction of Cezanne...

or a photo ofthe landscape would do.

I believe that anyone who copies a masterwork...

has a chance of repeating the artist's action...

and possibly recapturing, ifonly by chance...

the exact gesture.

A copy ofthe gesture.

Why not?

Recapturing a genius's nature...

will satisfy me more...

than any brushstroke of my own.

I can see why you laugh.

I won't sell it to you anyhow.

Don't worry.

- Please. - I'm sorry.

Thankyou.

I'm looking for the architect's offiice.

It's across the street.

Excuse me.

May I come with you?

I'm going to church.

Are you a Catholic? Do you believe in God?

What is this, a test?

If I say yes, I can escort you, and if not, I can't?

Is that the idea?

Sorry.

No, I'm not sorry.

Are you always so quiet?

Why?

I have nothing to say.

With so many things going on around you?

Maybe I should go alone.

No, I should escort you.

Don't worry. Nothing can happen to me.

You must read a lot.

Not even the papers?

I used to browse through them. Not anymore.

Once I read this in a paper:

"lfonly a cherry tree could eat its own cherries!"

You're the tree that eats its own fruit.

I think that to be happy we should eliminate our thoughts.

That's a thought in itself.

That's true.

That's why I prefer to keep quiet.

That only makes it worse!

Silence fii lls our heads with thoughts.

I mean pointless thoughts.

How do we get rid ofthose?

If I could...

I'd escape.

Where to?

Away from my body.

Why?

One ofthe body's shortcomings...

is that it needs so much.

It's never satisfiied.

Don't run down all its needs. Some can be fun to satisfy.

Try giving up your little fun. You'll see the peace it brings.

We already have so many unfulfii lled dreams...

at the end ofeach day!

I think I've got it.

You're in love.

You show all the signs ofa girl in love.

- It's true. - I knew it!

You're detached, like all satisfiied women.

Yes, I am satisfiied.

So peaceful!

Right now I have life's rarest treasure: serenity.

It comes from being with a satisfiied woman.

Satisfiied people are rare.

Excuse me. Are you satisfiied?

Don't be ridiculous.

- See? It's rare. - What time is it?

A quarter to 5:00.

Can we hurry?

Where are we going?

St.John of Malta's.

- Are you from here? - No.

Will you tell me where you're from?

I'd really rather not.

Like flowers.

That's true.

It's pretty.

This sounds like sacrilege...

but I don't like flowers.

I do, but they make me sad.

They're beautiful-- gorgeous for two days.

Then they wilt and get thrown away.

TheJapanese don't grow flowers so as not to see them die.

Why are you smiling?

You're scared ofdeath, aren't you?

Scared is not the word.

I'm scared of life.

A girl your age, scared of life? Absurd!

The life people lead.

You undervalue it. What do you want from life?

Nothing.

What? Nothing?

Life is all we have. It's all there is.

It's the only thing we know exists.

Look.

Here we're alive. There we're dead.

Here we can laugh.

There we can laugh all we like-- no one will see.

We're in the beyond.

Your opinion is beside the point.

Please don't treat me like this.

Your courtesy reminds me too much that I'm a woman.

You don't like it?

I wish I were a man.

A strong man.

Almost all women say that...

but usually for practical reasons.

Never for poetic ones.

I mean I'd like to be as strong as a man.

An enigma-- that's what you are.

And, like all enigmas, disconcerting.

I want to know you better. Discoveryou.

I'd like us to be friends.

It's hard to relate to someone who's in love...

but I'd like to try.

I'm not saying this to please you.

You're not the type to like compliments.

Not that kind ofcompliment.

I'd rather be told that I pray well.

Can you be good or bad at praying?

Oh, yes!

The way you looked in church, you must be brilliant!

It was like you were dead.

I was dead.

A little.

Look!

Lone men at night look like criminals.

Typical!

A criminal who lets you by and then starts singing.

I haven't seen a man sing in the street foryears.

Are you hurt?

- Sure you're okay? - I'm fii ne.

You got your coat dirty.

What if I fell in love with you?

You'd be lighting a candle in a room full of light.

Can I see you tomorrow?

Tomorrow I enter a convent.