Original subtitles

...All is like a dream...

I see clouds...

... Fog...

A pine forest...

A familiar sea-shore...

And nothing weighs upon my heart.

I believe someone has called me...

...No one is there...

...An island appears in the sea...

...And suddenly I am already on the island...

Old stone steps...

Huge cryptomerias.

I take a deep breath of jasmine...

Sounds, sounds...

...Where am l?.. In paradise?..

But then, Why do I feel so sad?

...What a strange island!..

...The houses are as if turned to stone.

I do not hear my steps at all...

In this fog I am like a fish in water,

But I feel a chill - As a human would...

There is a light in a window...

For me perhaps?

Perhaps it is for me...

My shadow precedes me...

The scent of a candle...

...The door is like a sheet of paper, weightless...

How do you do!

She is not yet entirely with me...

But if this soul responded, others too may be waiting for me...

A soul loves humans...

I shall return some day...

I shall return...

..How lovely is the scent of jasmine on the sea-shore...

...How lovely it is...

...Sorry, who are you?

Don't go away, help me!..

...A tobacco shop...

Velvety, elety warm wood.

A light, yes...

A light in a small window...

I shall enter...

To whom belongs the soul, that returned home this time?

I sense you and I am listening.

In the town, where I lived long ago,

People went out to clean the streets early in the morning...

It was foggy...

When the cleaning was over, the fog dissipated...

And people began to recognize one another,

and I also began to see: here is an old woman, a neighbour,

And here is the old man I know, and here is my mother, my father...

I was quite a small girl and suffered from paralysis...

and from solitude...

...Thus it came

That the loved one, the one longed for emerged from the fog...

But... I was never afraid of solitude...

...I was not always happy about having to rely upon someone else...

All my life I thought that l could manage well on my own...

But it was not intentional...

My solitary life wasn't intentional...

It turned out to be

a solitary life...

Then what can one ask God for?

What should one ask for?

Ask for good judgement!

Yes, ask for good sense. One need it to survive.

Someone like me could have used some common sense.

Ask for good judgement!

Has life weared you?

Yes... Very much.

What a strange dream...

Where was I born?

I no longer remember...

Where is my motherland?

I no longer remember...

Ah, this is my writing desk...

This is my crane...

A warm little foot...

And this is my home...

Or is it?

Yes, this is my home...

...Voices...

And this is my river...

And this is my old park...

All is like a dream...

And I remember too that it was the night of the shipwreck.

There was a storm, and a ship got wrecked...

In the morning fishermen with fish-nets

caught the bodies of dead sailors out among the breakers...

The fishermen placed the bodies on the shore

and covered them with mats...

There lived a mad woman in our village...

She came to the shore

and she saw the bodies under the mats.

She screamed and jumped on the mats,

and with a horrible grimace...

And with a horrible grimace on her face

she began to dance, stepping over the bodies...

She danced with a horrible grimace,

and she laughed...

The fishermen who were looking at her,

stopped their work, and did not disturb her...

I remember well how I stood there

and watched this dance,

but nearby, among the breakers, I saw still other bodies tossing in the waves...

They wore beautiful tunics with golden stripes on the sleeves...

Young faces with jet black hair...

When a wave broke, their hair was draped gracefully over their foreheads...

The heads of the dead rocked slowly from one side to another,

bending to the movement of waves...

On a wave I saw the profile of a handsome and quiet man -

I never saw a man more handsome and more quiet in my life upon this earth.

Suddenly the dead sailor spoke to me: - It is all right,

all right, - don't be afraid of anything, everything will be all right...

The mad woman continues her dance on the dead bodies,

and the young dead man is lying alone among the waves,

whispering: - It is all right, it is all right...

I don't know why, but...

may I ask you about your father?

He was a very tidy man... but very stubborn...

He always remained a little boy, which exasperated Mother,

and always irritated her...

As he lay dying,

he said twice: Mummy, Mummy.

I remember that for a long time we recalled these minutes with my mother,

and we never understood:

was it indeed his wife whom he had called Mummy...

Do you know, how men change after death?

They become more tender...

I learned it after having spoken

with people like me, who are no longer of this world.

Why is there so much sadness in poetry?

Perhaps you know why?

Return to us - We are so in need of people like you!

No, no... It's enough, quite enough...

I don't want anymore, I don't want to...

I am weary...

But if I had to live the earthly life once more,

I would like to live it as a great tree with red fruits...

So I returned to you...

I want to ask you about one thing only:

What is happiness?

Was there anything that made me happy in my life?.

Very little, almost nothing,

It is even somehow awkward for me...

I really do not know...

There was never anything that made me happy in my life...

No, I do not know anything about happiness...

What can I know about happiness in life?

Nothing.

Nothing.

What can I know about life?

I know nothing...

Surely, one would like to be together with one's dear ones,

But one must never thrust oneself upon others...

I do not know anything about happiness,

no, I cannot know it...

How could I understand it?

All is so complicated in life...

For instance, wars are not necessary, but they are fought...

It seems I am welcome here...

And this island is enough for all my dreams...

I shall stay...