Original subtitles

Alfredo Bini

presents

the wacky Totó

the human Totó

the mad Totó

the sweet Totó

in the story

HAWKS AND SPARROWS

Told by Pier Paolo Pasolini

with the innocent

with the sly

Davoli Ninetto

All the other actors from Femi Benussi to Vittorio Vittori

were found on the streets of the world

in the sad merry-go-round

in the delightful merry-go-round

Luigi Scaccianoce, architect

Danilo Donati, costume designer

Nina Baragli film editor

Ennio Morricone, composer

Mario Bernardo and Tonino Delli Colli, cinematographers

Fernando Franchi, production manager

Sergio Citti, assistant philosopher

A small troop wandered the suburbs

Roaming the countryside and villages he nearly killed himself

By producing this, he risked his position

Alfredo Bini

By directing it, he risked his reputation

Pier Paolo Pasolini

Where is mankind going? Who knows!

Excerpt of an interview given by MAO to Mr Edgard Snow

You can't argue with the moon.

Who said that? Why not?

The moon will get angry. You need the high tide.

What's the high tide? What causes it?

You know all the garbage the sea brings ashore?

- What causes it? - Who knows.

The moon. It has a force of gravity and that makes the water rise.

I really like Mamma's new false teeth!

And I know what they cost!

They're not fake, like in the old days.

They're real teeth. And she's so crazy about them...

She locks them up in the dresser so Granddad won't steal them.

By the way, did you remember to put DDT in the stable?

- No, Papa, I forgot... - Damn...

No! It's not my fault. Giuseppina the loony was on her balcony

with her big bosom. It's too bad you weren't there.

A lot I care!

I'm thinking about the stable, the poor cows, eaten up by flies.

You're irresponsible!

That's why those poor cows moan all night.

A Cinzano and a cherry soda! How much is that?

One seventy.

Papa, she won't put out.

Go. Go have your drink.

- I'm learning. - Sure!

Count your steps, otherwise you can't learn.

Come on. One, two, three and four.

One, two, three and four.

HEY, guys, the bus!

Hey, listen.

Tell me, do you do your hair with the vacuum cleaner?

VIA BENITO THE WEEPY Unemployed

I've got something to do. I told you. Okay?

Yes, yes. I know...

- What's going on? - Who knows.

- A wedding? - Who knows.

Who were they? Who were they?

Marcucci, the one with the crooked mouth... And his wife.

I'm going to see my friend, I'll be right back.

Make it quick.

VIA ANTONIO PASTA-EATER Street Cleaner

VIA LILLO SHEET-TEARER Runaway at age 12

Hello.

You look like an aeroplane.

What do you want?

I was trying out a friend's Fiat 600. I was flying!

He was scared shitless!

Of course, because you're nuts.

Why are you dressed like that?

The nuns are putting on a play at school.

Looks cute on you.

- Want to go dancing on Sunday? - No!

Who gives a shit?

If you take me in the 600...

I can't, my friend has to take it to the mechanic.

We're souping it up. It'll be a real fireball.

I'll flash past! You won't even see me!

They saw you with a girl I know from school.

Yeah, I ran into her, we were just talking.

Sure, you were in the field! She told me herself.

Field! We were going by there,

because it was late, and her father would beat her.

You understand?

Bye, Nino.

What's wrong?

Go away, I never want to see you again.

Little kiss?

The cop saw them, they had vomit on them.

He was on the bed.

She was lying in the hall, her hands towards the door.

If you ask me, life's nothing.

Well, death's a lot.

When a man's dead, everything he had to do,

he's done.

I think about death all the time.

I mean, how does a person die?

He breathes slow and goes...

Till he can't do it anymore.

Then he stops going...

Can he tell that he can't...?

How can he tell when he's gone from alive to dead?

Ask somebody else! Have I ever died?

I'd like to be a parrot and live 300 years.

A rich man died.

"Here lies one with a pile of money.

"The richest one in the cemetery."

What a gyp!

Blessed is the bum, because few know he's dead.

They write, "So one's dead? Bring on the next."

You're all wrong!

For a rich man, dying is paying up,

but life has given him something.

The poor bum pays and life has given him nothing.

He passes from one death to another.

Friends, where are you going?

Where are you going?

- What did you say? - I didn't say anything.

Then I'm having hallucinations!

Don't you want me as a travelling companion?

Who is it?

That's who it is, the raven.

The road begins and the journey is already over.

It won't bother you if I come with you?

No, professor, it'll be a pleasure.

Since we're on the same road, can you tell me where are you headed?

Over there.

That's a bit vague, where over there?

Over there.

- Let me guess... - Guess, then.

To the photographer

to take pictures of the boy, who's got a job at Fiat.

- No. - No, we had those taken last week.

Then to your friend's, for his son's baptism.

No, but you're a good guesser, damn it.

- We were at a baptism just yesterday. - Oh, yeah.

Are you a prophet, professor?

Prophet? I wish I were.

A prophet, or a policeman. One or the other.

Let me think.

You're going to a fortune-teller,

to get medicine for Ninetto against tapeworm.

Getting warm! Warmer.

Forgive me if I insist, where are you going?

Down there!

But where, to the right, the left? Straight ahead?

At the end!

Excuse me, have we met?

Where are you from? Who are you?

I come from far away.

My country is called Ideology.

I live in the capital, the city of the future,

on Karl Marx Street, number seventy times seven.

- We're at Garbageville. - Down-and-out Street.

- Number 23. - Below Cesspool Ridge.

World famous for the martyrdom of St illiterate!

Oh, my God!

This sun is really hot.

It's frying my brains.

Let's stop in that field and take a nice nap.

- Walk! - You like the idea, don't you?

I've got a pair of calluses.

One on my little toe, the other on the big one,

and I'm suffering the torments of purgatory.

Lucky you.

Lucky, hell! With this poverty...

- Yes, lucky. - Lucky? Why?

Because you walk like masters in the streets of the outskirts of the cities,

and you enter the little cafés with the workers and the morning sun,

and you kiss girls dressed as angels,

and you discuss life and death with the words closest to hand.

- Whereas I... - Don't you have parents? Family?

My parents are Mr Doubt and Mrs Conscience.

Me, I'm Ninetto,

son of Totó Innocenti and Grazia Semplicetti.

Your innocence, your simplicity and your grace are religious.

Religion is the power that leads you along a road that no-one knows.

No matter whether you are peasants or workers,

a road that takes you to that place where all roads meet.

Speaking of religion, I'd like to tell you a story, if I may.

Oh, you may, of course.

To relieve the strain of this march in the sun.

- Look at him. - May I?

- May I? - Good.

This story I'll now tell

is of a strange sort, one of birds, hawks and sparrows.

We are in the 13th century.

Reference to events and people of today is not in the least casual.

You who do not want to know,

who live like murderers among the clouds, and thieves in the wind,

and like lunatics in the sky,

you who have your own law outside the law,

you who live in a world at the foot of the world,

and don't work, and dance at massacres.

We know you only through God,

because our eyes are too accustomed to our life,

we don't see like you in the desert or in the forest,

rich only in offspring.

We must know you, learn again how you are

witnesses of Christ to the dried-up faithful

with your gaiety and pure strength, which is faith.

And so I charge you, Brother Ciccillo,

and you, Brother Ninetto,

to continue preaching to the birds.

And you should begin with two different classes.

From the arrogant hawks to the humble sparrows.

In praise of the Lord.

Throw away that slingshot and say a Hail Mary!

These saints can really be demanding!

Does talking to the birds seem easy to you?

- That's what I said. - Shut up.

You think I'm a saint, too?

With that face of yours?

What's wrong with my face?

Brother Cicci, we'll go to St Francis

and tell him we're not up to it, he should send somebody else.

I'll give you a whack!

Then let's go to those peasants who make great cheese.

We'll stay there a month, then tell St Francis, "The birds want you."

No! We're not saints.

We're human men, but, by the Lord's grace, we have a brain.

And so Brother Ciccillo and Brother Ninetto

set off on their way to preach to the birds.

What'll we tell them?

It's up to you, Brother Ciccillo.

God help you.

I can't help you, I'm no good at anything.

I will make a vow.

O Lord,

give me the strength to stay here

where I've set my knees

until I've sanctified the hawks of this castle

and of the world according to the will of St Francis.

What's he doing?

Must be a mushroom monk.

Is he spying on Christ?

Shall we pick him clean?

Would they let me be a monk? I don't eat much.

Let him be! Leave him alone. That's enough!

There he is! Brother Buttercup!

Will you leave him alone? Leave him in peace?

Shame on you! You know who you're disturbing?

A saint! A saint!

Sure. St Chicory.

Brother Ciccillo, help!

- Pass! - Catch!

- Heads up! - Throw!

Brother Ciccillo, help!

This grass sure grows fast.

That's why they called us mushroom monks.

It's all chicory.

There's some ivy, too.

And nettles.

I'll pull up the nettles.

Be quiet. Go away!

Summer came,

the season of cicadas, of nettles,

of picnics on the grass, of tomatoes.

Autumn came.

Winter came.

Never had there been as much snow as that year.

Then the lovely season returned.

I'm fed up!

I'm leaving. What am I doing here?

I'm not good at anything.

I can't talk with people, how can I talk with birds?

What am I doing here? Counting roaches?

I'm fed up! Fed up!

I'm going back to my mother.

But Brother Ciccillo was unable to answer him,

because, after having been silent for a year, his throat had rusted.

Brother Ciccillo, am I right?

Why should I stay here, day and night,

summer and winter, rain or shine, leading this lousy life?

Why?

To gain Paradise, my son.

Can I rest in your shade?

Paradise.

I've found it! I've found it!

Thank you, Lord! I've found it!

I've found it!

Hawks, hawks, come, listen...

Come, listen...

Who are you?

What do you want?

We are creatures of God.

We want to speak with you, creatures of God.

God?

Who's God?

The creator of creatures.

And why did God create us?

Why did you create your children?

Then each of us is God.

That's going too far!

There, you show them a bit of consideration,

and they take advantage.

What does this God want from us?

Love!

LOVE...

LOVE!

Take it easy now!

Go!

It was hard work, but we managed to do it.

I'm happy for you, not for myself!

But how did you do it?

God helps those who help themselves.

The saints, with faith they do everything.

But I'm a man, a human man.

So I said to myself, "Brother Ciccillo, get to work!

"Squeeze your brains!"

With faith you believe, with learning you see.

You're lucky, with that head on your shoulders!

St Francis was right to send you.

He'll be pleased when we tell him all these things.

But now let's go and have some fun, we've earned it.

We'll play the organ in church, to thank the Lord.

Then to the peasants' house to eat ricotta and pecorino cheese.

And the cellars, you remember, full of wine?

And we'll ask for a new habit, this one's a mess.

Don't you think, Brother Ciccillo?

He who serves the Lord is always in a hurry, you beanpole!

We've done the hawks.

Now it's the sparrows' turn. Let's go.

Okay, Brother Ciccillo, forget I said it.

Where do we go to convert the sparrows?

Over there.

Let's hope it's not as hard as with the hawks, Lord.

I'll vow again not to move my knees from where I've set them

until the sparrows have been sanctified.

And let's hope they're not... hard-headed.

What's he doing, Mrs Weed?

I don't know, Mrs Need. Do you, Mrs Greed?

Maybe a call of nature, Mrs Weed.

Come here.

- What do you want? - What's he doing?

He'll be staying there a year at least.

In a year, a fig tree grows figs.

What grows on a monk? His beard?

You shouldn't talk like that. He's a saint.

Do you believe him, Mrs Weed?

How should I know, Mrs Need? What do you say, Mrs Greed?

We'll have to see if he gets wet when it rains.

He has to convert the sparrows.

But he's already performed a lot of miracles.

At Le Frattocchie, he turned wine into water for those drunks.

At Zagarolo, water into wine, because he liked to drink it.

At La Sgurgola, he left it like it was, because it was good.

Watermelon! Sweet watermelon!

Cream cheese! Cream cheese!

God, give me patience.

For an answered prayer, blessings on Brother Ciccillo!

He saved me from the wasps.

Good day. Good day.

Lady Luck, touch me with your magic wand.

- You want me to? - Yes.

- You want me to? - Yes!

One moment of patience, Lord. Pardon me for what I do.

But even you, in the temple of Jerusalem, understood this.

Sometimes, enough is enough!

Enough!

Come, it's time to put a stop to this!

I'm ready.

Let us thank the Lord.

- Why are no birds showing up? - Quiet.

They don't answer. They don't answer.

They don't answer. Damn them!

Science! Science, my foot!

Faith is what we need for you, not science.

I didn't have enough faith.

Dear Lord,

I did not have enough faith.

Can I play hopscotch for a bit?

Why are you looking at me like that? Just a little.

It's been two years since I played.

Go, go, my son, go.

Play, play.

What can I say?

It's a disaster here. I have to start all over again.

Oh, well. Never mind.

I've found it!

I've found it! I've found it!

By Easter, it'll all be done.

Sparrows don't communicate by chirping.

What a fool I was! What a fool!

O Lord, let's hope this time it works.

So, how did the sparrows talk to one another?

What language had Brother Ciccillo learnt

in his long meditations?

Simple, sparrows communicated by hopping.

Sparrows, come, listen...

Come, listen...

What do you want?

We bring you the good news of the Lord.

Oh, at last! We've been waiting along time for it!

Isn't that something? Really! You were waiting for it?

Especially in winter,

when there isn't a crumb of food in the whole country!

What? What kind of good news were you expecting?

The news telling of heaps of millet and wheat.

Oh! Oh! What a job it is, bringing you the good news!

Well? What does this good news want from us?

Fasting!

What? What did you say?

Fasting, but not to starve you to death.

Sacrifice, in other words. O Lord, love!

Love...

Love!

LOVE!

Almighty Lord, how glad I am that there's a sun.

And how glad I am that there's water!

So somebody who's dirty can wash his face.

You're happy, Brother Ciccillo, eh?

Praised be the Lord for this donkey,

for all these sheep,

and for the shepherd.

Praise him for this blessed world

where everybody can get along, even those who can't.

Blessed be the fresh grass, the nettles, the chicory,

and him who eats it. God preserve him!

Woe to them who die in mortal sin,

whose funerals are grey and grim.

Praise the Lord for the happiness in our hearts

and because what you give us is jam and tarts.

Why? Why?

St Francis, the hawks have been converted.

The hawks, as hawks can, worship the Lord.

And then, Brother Francis, we converted the sparrows.

And the sparrows, too, as sparrows, also in agreement,

worship the Lord.

But between the two bunches, they fight and kill each other.

But what can I do, if the class of the hawks

and of the sparrows

can't get along with each other?

You can do everything with the Lord's help.

- What is that supposed to mean? - What is that supposed to mean?

That means you must go and teach them

what they haven't understood and you should've taught them.

- What? - What?

This world must be changed.

That's what you haven't understood.

A man with blue eyes will come

and he will say, "We know that justice is progressive.

"We know that as society gradually progresses,

"the awareness of its imperfect composition arises

"and its strident, imploring inequalities emerge,

"those that afflict mankind."

Isn't this awareness of the inequality between classes

and between nations, the most serious threat to peace?

Go and begin again.

In praise of the Lord.

Let's go and begin again. Come on.

Come on, don't be disheartened.

Don't be disheartened.

Cheer up, let's go! Be happy!

For anyone in doubt, we would like to point out

that the raven is a "left-wing intellectual"

of the era preceding Palmiro Togliatti's death...

If you'll excuse me.

NO DUMPING

Now what do I do?

Charge!

PRIVATE PROPERTY

Ninetto, tell me. What's the name of the guy who went to the moon?

- Gagarin? - How should I know?

Look, the moon's so far away, it's like a dream.

Still they'll arrive up there.

Can you see it? It seems something only I can see.

- I see it, too. - I know, I know.

Filthy delinquents! All of you come here!

One day I'll shoot you! What is this, the public toilet?

I can't stay here all day long

for this filth of yours! I have young daughters.

Bring them here to us!

Look, we have laws here, you pigs! I'll call the cops!

Hey, it's fertiliser, you ought to pay us for it.

You can take this fertiliser home with you!

Say, Pop, are you joking, or do you mean it?

I'm not joking! Take your muck with you!

- Or else? - Or else I'll fill you full of lead.

Get my gun! We'll kill you!

You want to joke, fine. But now I'm fed up!

Severa, my gun!

Shoot!

For a patch of land, a war began.

Now you run off. Scared, eh?

Mammal

Papa, run!

You should have done what Gandhi did, take out a handkerchief,

wrap it around your shit and carry it away,

so you'd leave that landowner looking like a fool on his land.

It's time to put an end to wars. We have to fight for peace.

Nobody here?

All dead?

Wake up!

Damnation, where are you, you deadbeats?

What are you doing up there? Can't you answer?

Quiet! Hush!

Lower your voice. Hello.

- Quiet! You'll wake the kids. - They're still sleeping?

Come in.

Mammal

It's still night, go to sleep.

There's nothing to discuss. Give me the money.

Or I go to the lawyer, and it's out of my hands.

Right, Papa!

Signor Marcello, you see our condition.

We don't have a thing.

You've got to be patient. We gave you the pig last time.

Time before that, you took the mattresses and the little rug.

This time what can we give you? There's nothing left.

You eat birds' nests?

The Chinese! The Chinese!

Sleep, it's still night. Sleep.

It's a shack.

Still, with the land, we'll recover our money.

No, not the house!

For God's sake, not the house! No!

Yes, the house. Yes.

Good for you, Papa!

Sleep, it's still night. Sleep.

For four days, I've kept them in bed with no food,

and I keep telling them it's night.

If they get up, they want to eat. And what can I give them, sir?

Madam, I don't know what to say to you.

There's nothing I can do about it.

Pray to the Madonna, don't pray to me.

"Business is business." Is that clear?

Ninetto, let's go.

After you.

You want to say something?

If you have something to say, say it to my face.

- In any case, I'm right. - I won't say you acted wrong.

All I say is, take care a bigger fish doesn't devour you.

The nest is served.

- Good day. - Good day.

Sir, excuse me, if you could help me a bit to push this Cadillac

that won't run.

You'll say there are four of us, able-bodied.

But no, no!

This one here has, forgive the expression, haemorrhoids.

This other, you can see for yourself.

For the lady, no explanations are needed.

As for the third, the young gentleman,

this morning he had a manicure.

- He doesn't want to soil his hands. - If it won't take too long.

TRAVELLING SHOWS

One, two, three. Go, Ninetto.

- You go, too, Papa. - Rude boy!

To get it started, we need the hand of the Lord.

Anyway, I thank you for your collaboration.

Let me introduce myself, Pasquale Prettyboy.

- Ciro Favourite. - N.O. Convictions.

Urganda the Unknown.

Annibale the Vegetarian.

And my little ones. Pittance, known as "Pit".

And Pepsodent, known as "Pep".

- Do you have calluses? - Don't say the word, blessed black man.

Like those who walk barefoot on hot coals

to burn the spirits of death,

those men in your country. Well, I'm worse off.

I have a miraculous remedy.

Pay no attention to him, that stray uses it only for himself.

He's mad about that cream,

and he only sells it to those who can afford it.

Within my possibilities, if it doesn't represent a sacrifice.

Five thousand.

They settled on a thousand.

People! People! People!

Look at all the people!

HOW ROME RUINED THE WORLD

We're in the year 2000, and they still do these things.

What's going on?

Hurry, she's about to give birth.

At your age, you don't look at these things.

Hot water! Hot water!

- What for? - I know what for, I've had 18.

Hot water!

Hot water, guys!

- Another mouth to feed. Hail, Mary! - It's a girl. Hail, Jesus!

Give the mamma a big hand!

Encore!

Leave her outside the next church.

- What should we call her? - Nobody wanted her or expected her.

She decided to come? Well, let her be "Welcome".

Yes, Welcome! Welcome!

- What do you have to laugh about? - You know what's in the box? Read.

I haven't read anything for 40 years.

What does it say?

What does it say on the box?

- I can't figure it out. - Read.

I can't understand it.

Contraceptive cream.

And you bought it for calluses.

Out-of-date contraceptive cream, those poor things.

Poor things? You laugh at others' misfortunes?

What's this contraspective, eh?

Don't you know? How many children do you have?

Eighteen, why?

If you'd used this medicine, you wouldn't have had them.

Listen. Why shouldn't I have had them?

Half of the humans in our advanced civilisation

are in a state of ignoble and intolerable suffering.

They are suffering hunger, literally. It's only going to get worse.

The more children you have, the more hunger there is. Right?

Use your wives more judiciously, damn it!

Carmela, Carmelina!

One of you is not enough, I need three!

Carmela, Carmelina!

I'll satisfy all three of you! Carmela, Carmelina!

I'm not doing it on purpose, You should know that

Carmela, Carmelina!

I'm stubborn, stubborn, stubborn, Really stubborn

It is the sunset of the great hopes.

Those poor swindlers are the first to be obscured

in the company of Rossellini and Brecht.

Whereas the workers in this sunset advance.

Ideologies are out of fashion.

Here's one who goes on talking,

no-one knows what about, to men going no-one knows where.

CONFERENCE OF DENTISTS FOR DANTE

Professor Ottovolante, women believe he is extraordinary,

but actually he's derived all his material from a miscellany

of Dante studies by the English professor Fred Efamen,

published in Oxford in 1933.

This Fred Efamen is also the author of that novel...

Bloodstained Drawers at Scotland Yard,

which was the source of all the James Bonds.

Come in, come in. What can I do for you?

- We'd like to speak with the Engineer. - Come in, please.

My God, lions!

Be good now. Be polite.

If he bites me, he'll eat me up.

You don't understand, it's the custom among the gentry.

You think that's strange?

I don't know this gentry.

If your father has one, then so do you.

Good day, Engineer, excuse me for not getting up.

I presume you're here to do your duty.

Today's the 25th. The final deadline, if I'm not mistaken.

Yes, of course, that's what I wanted to do.

Let me explain.

The big snowfall froze four acres of collard greens

and I didn't make a cent.

Then this wretch here...

...went to Mass every Sunday with the tractor.

But since he's not so good at driving it,

one Sunday, can you believe, he smashed it to bits?

I had to pay for it.

More expense!

And besides, I have 18 children.

The one who could help, this lunatic,

he had a vocation and became a Capuchin monk.

Engineer, this animal...?

I'm simply a businessman and I do business.

Give me the money or you'll end up in jail.

And you, you and your mother, won't believe that I've got troubles!

Excuse me, the bouquet of roses for your lovely wife, sir,

I forgot it.

I'll bring it another time.

My respects, sir.

Idiot!

They're always the same. Nothing will change them.

Papa!

Where are you running to?

Where are you going, damn it? Where?

Run!

Coming!

Come on, run!

Wait!

Come on, run!

I'm coming!

- Hurry! It's leaving! - Here I am!

Never mind.

We'll take the next one.

Let's sit on the mound.

He's a good soul, that raven.

He's right to criticise those clowns.

I like the bearded guy who went...

He looked part raven.

Papa, when I'm at the factory,

the first strike and I'll go to the Engineer and I'll kill his dogs.

You'll come, too, eh?

I certainly will. I'll go there and...

Ninetto, let's go.

I won't ask you where you're going anymore.

We'll reach the end,

and I, who know so many things, will never know that.

The road begins and the journey is already over.

- What are you doing? - Looking at the swallows.

- What's your name? - Luna.

One hundred metres farther on...

Help! My stomach! What can it be?

My God! It can't be.

Again? My stomach hurts.

I hear it going "glug, glug" inside.

I can't hold out. I'll be right back.

Hey, black hair!

Come here. Here.

Luna, the things you make me do!

Let's go down there. There's a nice spot.

They've mown the hay. It smells like perfume, you wouldn't believe.

What did you eat?

To tell the truth, we haven't dined yet.

I ate at my sister's, a slice of meat with spinach.

What did I tell you? You smell it?

Now I feel better! Let's go!

My guts are all twisted. No kidding.

What did we eat today? I can't wait. I'll be right back!

Where are you going? Idiot, come here!

Luna!

Luna!

Are you deaf?

Luna, I'm his son.

So I imagined.

You have the face of an altar boy.

You've got great tits!

You're not like, "Come out, Maria, the night air's cool."

Who's that?

A person, my friends and I go with her.

She's 100 years old.

A stomach like this.

One leg's thin, one's fat.

She doesn't have any nose.

Eyes she has, a mouth, but no nose. Who knows?

I make you laugh?

I like people like you.

Your father made me laugh, too.

Everything all right, sir?

"Professors are to be eaten with hot sauce,"

as Giorgio Pasquali said, "But whoever eats them and digests them

"becomes a professor himself."

I feel better! Let's go, come on!

And don't eat any more of that stuff, it's bad for you!

So many problems, speaking of whores.

And the raven began again to go on and on...

God. Fatherland. Family. Once I would have railed.

Today it's no use. Or perhaps I'm finished.

My hour has passed.

My words fall into the void.

Nevertheless, Signor Totó,

I do not weep for the end of what I believe in.

Someone else will come.

He will pick up my banner and carry it forward.

I weep only for myself.

It's only human in one who feels of no further account.

Nino, Nino.

What? What?

Will you excuse me?

I must say a word to this idiot here. Come.

- I'm going to eat him. - What?

- We're going to eat him. - What?

If we don't eat him, someone else will. Anyway what's he living for?

He even seems a little bit crazy to me.

Yes, that'll teach him to meddle in others' business.

How'll we eat him?

Like Romans of old, who ate the figs, not the bowl.

Damn it all.

Dear friends,

as always

it finishes like this, begins like this, concludes like this,

continues like this,

our story

of hawks and sparrows