All language subtitles for Siekierezada aka Axilia

Screenplay

Music

Director of Photography

Producer

Starring

AXILIAD
or
The Winter of Forest People

Based on the story by

Director

-Go already, John... stop complaining

-Yes� maybe even to Patagonia

-Even to Patagonia...
-Shh. Shh, my girl.

We shall meet again. On the meadow...

-Go now�

-Hey, you there, friend!

Get off my back!

I'm too old to lift you up!

-I'm sorry

-The two of us will get this over with in no time.
Good day!

-Good day. Where did you come from?

-I hopped on the back and stowed away...

-You're a godsend! To the saw!

-Only yesterday I drove by and it wasn't here.

-Must have fallen at night.

-Is Hopla far from here?

-Very. But I'll see you to a splendid road.

-A splendid road, may it be just that.

-I'm Bartoshko.

-John Pradera.

-What would it all be like
without the roads, Mr Bartoshko?

Both the iron ones, as they say,
the rutted ones, and the threadbare ones.

-If there were no roads?
What sort of a question it that?

I'm from the countryside.
As far as I remember, there were roads.

Because how would people get to people?

To the wedding, from the wedding,
to the shop, the bailiff, the church...

carts with rye, potatoes, which way?

If there were no roads?
You must be a city lad, to ask such questions.

-Not really� More of a road lad.

-And what is the road? La strada, as they say�

-Mr John, about the road �
is best found out with legs.

Barefoot too, provided the sand isn't just so-so...

only hot, like at harvest,
or cold, like in november, at slight frost.

And the legs should be young too.
Old legs feel little.

And there should be a puddle
on that road� a rock, a root�

and you cut your toe, or bump your heel.

To get well personal with the road,
you need to go far into foreign lands.

Go, and go.

And make a wrong turn at a crossroad.
Walk into some strange undergrowth.

-Right...

-Oh Jesus, Jesus...
How good it is to see another man then!

And cross your heart, in case he were
cloven hoofed, and say: Praise be to God.

And when he responds, ask:
Which way, my dear fellow, to Dolistov?

-And he, what should he say?

-To Dolistov, my dear fellow,
that's right ahead! Let us go together.

-And what next?

-And it's good already, so good, Mr John.
One goes calmly, and one talks.

-Yes� One walks, one talks�
'One'� 'one'�

-We have arrived!

-Straight ahead to Hopla! Straight.

-Thank you, thank you very much.

-Go with God, Mr John.

-Good evening.
Are you Mrs Grandma Olenka?

-Good evening. Good evening.

-Ranger Bogdanski sent me,
for lodging that is.

-That's good, good.

-Let him follow me.

I will show him where.

-It's here.

-New�

-Does it draught well?

-Well.

Before, I had a tiled one too.

Only it started fuming up.
The fumes went not into the chimney, but under the bed.

So felled it down I have, and raised up a new one.

Masons came from Hopla, and made.

One thousand Zloty it cost.

And he, from afar?

-Who?

-He.

-Ah, me?

I'm... from there, the north, the northern sides.

-Oh, that's far.
But there's not much to be made in the forest.

Now recently,
I had me three here, from Lodzkie.

They made some at first.
They worked at the trimmings.

Some days they made 130 Zloty each...

-Stick measure.

-Ah.. Oh.

-They did no bumming around.
At night they went and at night they returned.

Later, Sire put them to work at the fellings,
and, heed you God,

to cut those branches, burn after yourself,
peel the bark, put up cubicles�

What can you make on logging? Nought.

-Any wood left over?

-Nothing's left, not even half a metre.

I see he's a flashlight.

Then we go to the shed and I show which.

-What's this flashlight? So.. shiny.

-Chinese.

-Chinese? I thought... silver.

-How silver!? Aluminium or some such.

-Ah. Tinn.

-So nice.

-I will leave it to Grandma Olenka, when I leave�

-That's nice. Nice of him.

-Yes� and so it goes.

-Enough! Nicodemus, enough!

-Enough. Definitely enough.

-Cut branches and gnarls by the neck,
everything comes out once the bark is peeled.

-Bigger branches and pulp to be cleaned, neatly piled.

-Yes sir.

-Smaller branches and kindlings are to be burned.

When turnover comes I want the plot neat and clean.

-Yes sir.

-And see the gamekeeper for tools and clothing, Mr Pradera.

-Yes sir, Mr Ranger.

-Alright. God bless.

-I promise myself�
I, John Pradera, I will not give in...

I promise you, my girl,
my apple branch, until the last breath...

I will go, I will run...
I will not give in.

-Hey, Mister!

Here's some embers for the fire.

-I'm Selpka.

-Pradera. Smoke a Sport?

-Sure...

-So, you're new here.

-Yes. You're a regular?

-Us we're all regulars here.

No newcomers so far.
But they'll come, they'll come. Highlanders are coming soon.

-A while back there were three from Lodzkie,

but they went home for holiday, and it looks like they're not coming back.
Come from far?

-From the north, the northern sides.

-No work there?

-Sure there is. But you know,
they come here from there, there from here, and so it goes.

-So it does.

-But you won't make shit on logging.

-It's going to be alright, we'll see.

-Sure it's going to be alright.
Grab a lass and it's going alright!

Careful though.
First see which walks by the hand and which astray, then go for it!

-The bucket will stay with you.
If anyone needs it, they'll holler.

Then you put some embers in and give it away.
It's a general bucket, a roaming one.

-Uh-huh. A roaming bucket�

So... not only flying saucers, but roaming buckets too�

That's good, good.

-So� I'm going.
I'm standing here and work's laid waste.

-As for women, Mr Selpka�
now my eyes only see one�

the only one.

-Good morning! Am I starved!

-Good morning, good morning.

-May I?

-He may, he may. Let him warm up.

-Oh. Thank you, grandma Olenka,
for covering me with the duvet.

I came back knackered from the axiliad.

And you stroked my hair�
like a son's...

-I haven't covered him.

I haven't stroked his hair.

-Who then?

-Last winter, highlanders came to work in the forest.

Four I had lodging.
Whatever they made, spent it all on booze.

One time they drank so much...
that they were drunk like Swedes!

One of them tried to get into my bed in a lapse!

Heed you God! I went over to see the Sire
and reported to him.

To strive at an old hag like me�
Heed you God�

Heed you God!
-Well, well, well�

-In the evening I went to sleep,
and I woke up in the morning.

-What did I say?

-'In the evening I went to sleep,
and I woke up in the morning'.

But that's resurrection! It's a miracle!

-Grandma Olenka, it's a miracle!

-Yes, yes� it's a miracle.

-Good evening.

-Good evening.

-You must be the newcomer?

-Yes, that's me.

-I'm Peresada. A local. I work at the trimmings.
You can't make shit off felling.

-I'm Pradera.
Sit and help yourself, Mr Peresada.

-Nice knife. Good for a party.

-Yup.

-Fried potatoes go well with a bit of hooch.

-Indeed.

-Let me tell you something, Newcomer,
just don't you blab�

One hag's brewing moonshine in Cerniava.
A village nearby.

If you're ever in demand, Newcomer�

We could go knock on a window.

What do you reckon?

-I reckon we can knock on the window many a time.

-Ah, I hear you!

I like you!

-Have you seen that wicker jug at the Sire's,
in his study?

-What Sire's?

-The ranger's. We call him the Sire in these parts.

-Ah. Yes I've seen it.
Would be about twenty litres there, or more�

Made of plums, judging by the colour.

-Yes plums, plums.
Sire pours in spirit, and it's liquor. Slivovitz.

-Goodness, if I could get my hands on that balloon�
There'd be no easing up.

Just a pack of Sports, a hose� and a glass.

No. Just the hose. A glass for what?

-No need for a glass.
And two hoses preferably, not to fight over one.

You, Mr Peresada, on the one hand, me on the other.

And on the side we chat, from time to time,
only not too often.

-Ah, I hear you, Newcomer. Even more I like you!

We've agreed with Young Batiuk,
who does logging here, and his mother helps him...

that tomorrow me and mother will dress up
and go to mass, to Hopla�

And before it's over,
we'll sneak out and hop in to Hoplanka.

If you'd happen to be there, New,
we'd down a glass.

-I think I'll be there.
And I'll have me a nice, warm meal at that.

Now then, let us go now, Mr Peresada,
or night will take best of us.

-Hey!

-Ma'am!

-In a minute!

-Such a pretty lady,
but for us not a maybe...

-Lady-maybe...

-Up for starters?

-Me, I'd have a pork knuckle,
if there'd be one.

-Good, New, you eat...

We'll have us a meal at the hut,
back in Bobrovice.

We're not about to break the bank
over these mayonnaises or whathaveyou.

-Starters are mandatory,
else I can't serve any vodka.

-And the pork knuckle don't count?

-One pork knuckle's not enough!
Besides, it's no starter, but a main.

-Hell, let's save our breath.
Bring us some pork aspic!

And the stuff!

-And the stuff!

-And three pints!

To clear the throat.

-Alright then! God bless!

-God bless.

-God bless.

-She's ripe for lumber,
as Sire says of pines in the forest.

-Ripe for lumber indeed!

-What about that hurricane that passed
last year, grandma Olenka mentioned...

-Oh man! Sire said we've gathered
twelve thousand cubic, just the breakwinds,

like a frontline had passed,
like artillery had battered from both sides!

When we came with the axes
we didn't know how go about it.

Good that it took at the forest, had it taken to the village...

-Annihilation!

-Canada!

-That's right, Canada!

-Here's Wasyluk.
Maybe he'd have a drink with us?

-He's not coming as long as I'm here.
He's mad at me.

-Why?

-Last Thursday� no, Friday...

We're having a beer at the store
and Wasyluk's got a cold. Snotting on and on.

-So what? What's wrong about that?

-Wait, moron, I'm not finished!

Suddenly he says: 'I wonder,
where's all the snot coming from'...

And I say 'Maybe lost thoughts, Wasyluk',

And whack! he puts down his unfinished beer, and goes.

He took it upon his honour� taken offence!

Saw him the next day and offered a cigarette.
He refused.

I understand him,
but everyone blunders from time to time.

-True.

-Even the priest at mass.

-Right! Unfortunately I was sober�
If I had been drunk�

That'd be a different story.
It's easy to forgive a drunken man.

-A drunken man, yes.

-The situation is quite grave.
But� I'll try to settle this.

I'll tell Wasyluk you will apologise,
Mr Peresada.

-Sure I can apologise, what the hell...

But if he wants to be angry with me,
I shit on him!

-I like him just as much
as a splinter in the ass.

-Alright... to friendship, gentlemen.
United we stand, divided we fall.

-God bless! -God bless.

-Bless us.

-Went into his german throat...

-In his french hole it did...

-Alright already! Alright!

Stop beating me! It's gone!

-Hell, don't you drink so greedily next time!

Have you seen how nice a cow drinks?
-Or a horse?

-But that's water! If you gave them vodka
you can't say what'd happen.

-Gotta smoke. Vodka likes the smoke.

-They say a party's fixed for
second Saturday, at the firehouse.

-So they say.

-Then we'll be carousing!

-This Saturday there's a party for the kids.

-So that the seniors can see how to
play nice, and take example.

-How is it then,
the example is set at the top or bottom?

-As the proverb says, at the top.

-But sometimes it ought to be set
at the bottom.

-Or from the side.

-From the side�
one can catch a punch!

-And from the top: a bottle to the head.

-Speaking of which...
I'm craving for a litre.

-A litre might be much.
How do you see it, Mr John?

-Good point, Mr Wasyluk�
I think we should take half, and we ditch.

-And we ditch!

-Ma'am!

Half sounds weak-kneed...

-So, for starters?

-Pork aspic.

With vinegar.

-Aspic's out.
Everyones always going 'pork aspic, pork aspic'

-Bring whatever then! But cheap!

-Hold on, Mr Peresada.
I'm going to have a look at the aquarium.

We're not going broke over
these mayonnaises or whathaveyou!

-That's right! Not for the mayonnaises!

-Mister�

Check out this belt. How much for it?

An officer's belt, mister.

-Oh, you've got better than mine.
Because I've only got a private's.

-Privates' shit. An officer's, now that's a belt!
When you hit the missus, she'll feel it at least .

-If I'd hit her, I'd cut my hand off.
And then go to the tracks. Get it, mister?

-Sure I understand, sure.
What's there to misunderstand?

-You ordered?

-No� I mean yes.

-All that lives, grows -My leg hurts
-Dung is to be ploughed� it stinks.

-The butcher's helper at least
gets his mouth stuffed

-And the workmen gape their eyes out...
-My leg is hurting, at the hip�

-'All that lives, grows' -'...aslant'

-Apple branch of mine, I love you.

-So late already!?

-No, it's fifteen to nine, give or take.

-Oh.

-He's taking me for a ride, that clock...

And only works when on the side.

If you stand him up to his feet,
he stops ticking altogether.

That's how he is.

-Let him have some of warm stuff!

-Careful, careful!

-Slow, slow I said!

-Stop!

-Nice shack, isn't it, Mr John?

-A fancy shack it is.
The world over, always a shack at a logging.

-Look at us now, so worldly.

-So, how do you like it?

-Put a stove in, get a bear and off!

Travel the world as travelling circus!

-Get a hag in there and fool around!

How many times do I have to tell you
to stop laughing like a clam at high tide!

-This will hang here�

Just don't you put a finger on it without reason! Wasyluk, Selpka, you hear?

-One more thing. The last one to go is to close the shack.

The key� stick it under this wheel...

-� not in the pocket, Pradera! You're usually the last one off the field.

-Mr John does enjoy his moments at the fire, after it's a day.

Bakes some potatoes� Waits for Peresada...

-With no girl to warm him up, he's warming up at the fire!

-Oh, Lord hermit� God...

But... is it worth it?

I guess it's not. No�

Oh, it must be.

Dearly worth it!

Yes�

Is it?

-What is it?

Why'd you spring off like a rabbit?

-Didn't hear you coming, and� got scared.

-I treaded carefully, so as to somewhat scare you.

-Better not do it anymore, from now on.

-Alright now, alright.

-Let me tell you something, New...

I was in Cerniava at day's break, and I knocked on a window.

-Forty zloty for an entire litre�

Imagine that!

So, take a plunge, New�
you seem sickened.

Must have a fever.

-Who's it you spoke to while I approached?

Can't see anyone around�

-To God, Mr Peresada.

But I couldn't talk it through.

-To God himself you spoke?

-I wanted to, but...

My tongue rolled up in a twist,
and I couldn't speak but nonsense...

How'd we get back yesterday, from Hopla ?

-Oh, you went haywire!

-No!

-The hell you were!

We were lugging you every other yard with young Batiuk�

because you'd tear off and run away... Lay down in a snowy ditch�

jumping snowdrifts, shouting:

'Apple branch, I love you'.

You got it all mixed up...

Here, take another sip.

-No, no�
-You'll straighten up in a spell!

That I promise to you!

-We'd better split, New.

-Why are you so shaky all of a sudden,
Mr Peresada?

-A few months back poachers shot
the gamekeeper from Cerniava.

There was not a sign of him...

Whole Cerniava was out looking, all of Bobrovice!

Five days later, school kids found him...

Found him by the crows circling him.

Wasn't but a carrion.

Ooh, there's no hokey-pokey with the poachers.

-Let's go!

-There!

-To hell with it! I'm dead on my feet.

-Sit then, Mr Peresada.

-Long time since I last chased so hard.

-We ran like a pair of sumpters on one thill!

-I last chased around like that as a pup in Podole, when the cow got into heat.

-Oh, right.

-Open the can, Mr Peresada.

I'll go over to grandma Olenka's and make hot tea.

-Why the hopeless face?

-I feel like crying, Mr Peresada.

-What'd they do to you that you feel like crying?

-It's not that...

-Spell it out, you.

-It's like I'm crying for something that...

...has yet to happen, in the future.

Don't know when.

And this instinct of mine,
the instinct of life, tells me:

Cry!

Cry now� so that when it happens...

Don't know what,
don't even want to know what!

� I just can't.
I'm so sorry.

-These tears� without a tear, New...

Hell, these I know about.

Well!

One for the road and off to the cabin.

My missus will start thinking
I got lost in the woods...

And snow's covered me head to toe.

-And I'm leaving this to you, New� your medicine.

TRAVELING LIBRARY
Civic Public Library of Slavobory.

-Good morning.

-Good morning.

-Good morning

-Good morning.

-You've arrived a bit early. Your readers are still at the mass.

-Mass will soon be over.

-It might be a good half an hour...

-And you, sir, are not a reader of ours, if memory serves�

-No, only willing to become one.

May I subscribe?

-Certainly. I'll fill in your card.

-May I have your name?

-John Pradera

-Pra-de-ra� John.

Address: Hopla?

-No, Bobrovice, Grandma Olenka's lodge.

-You must be working in the woods then?

-You have guessed right. I work at the fellings, a seasonal worker.

-Wonderful! Few and far between are readers of this profession.

Rare occurrences.

-A hen's tooth!

-You bet. Every librarian would be proud.

-Then I am very pleased.

-And what interests you? History books...

Kraszewski, Sienkiewicz?

-Uh...

-How about war?

-No! Not war, surely not.
Too much war can kill you.

-Have you read Lem? Stanislaw Lem.

-No� no. Only heard about him.

-He practices the genre of science fiction. Fictional science.

He describes life in the future,
thinks far ahead of our times.

-Everyone thinks ahead in a way, but�

I'm not sure. I'm not really drawn to it...

When I think of future times, I can't say I like what I see...

-Sounds a bit bitter�

-Very nice to hear professionals speak...

...but I'm off to the countryside, Mrs Halinka.

Maybe there'd be something inexpensive� some eggs, a hen maybe.

-If you find any cottage, get me some, if you will.

-What about Romance?

-Yes. But they never end well...

Tragically...

-And you sympathise?

-I'd gladly read a Roman, a piece...

about a great, incredible feeling that does not end in tragedy�

but ends beautifully.

Actually no, it doesn't end...
it persists beautifully.

He and she overcome all the obstacles and rejoin, finally.

A hundred years pass, they live...

Five hundred years on, they live�

and every time they touch�

they tremble...

-Wonderful! A wonderful fairytale.

-No... I mean a realistic piece.

-Good day! -Good day! -Good day!

-Good day! -Good day!

-We come to return books and would like to ask for assigned ones...

assignments for second term.

-Please, be my guest.

-Here's the list, Madam.

-I'll take this one, Madam.

Maybe you can sign it out, and I'll be off.

-What did you choose?

"Summer of the Forest People"! Wonderful!

Although it's winter�
But no one's written "Winter of the Forest People"�

Not to my knowledge, at least...

Please.

-Maybe someone will write it.

Thank you very much and goodbye, Madam.

-Goodbye, sir. We'll be back in four weeks,
so we'll talk again, alright?

-Gladly.

I would very much like to sound the horn�

so the readers hear it in the church, and the priest at the ambo.

He probably fell into the well of storytelling and needs a helping hand.

-A very fine parallel, very poetic.

Please, go ahead!

VOLOUNTEER FIRE BRIGADES
in Hopla

-A ladder to heaven, Mr Tomala?

-To hell, Mr Pradera.

-By ladder to hell as well?

-What did you think?

To heaven by ladder upwards,
to hell downwards.

-Ah. Now I'll know.

-Ma'am?

A traditional glass of wine, please.

-Seven zloty, up front.

-Where to?

You fool. To the bar!?

-Never get married to a thin-lipped hag.

Mine's got thin lips...

Worst heartburn� with thin lips.

Too thick a lip is bad too.

The best lips are� medium.

-But big tits.

-Right, Selpka?

-Big tits!

-Nowadays girls got pins!
A guy can't even get a grip.

-A chatty lass is not bad either...

You put your elbow on the tabletop...

Rest your head and listen� with one ear.

She's rambling on� and you think of anything you fancy.

And have the purest peace of mind.

-Yet Kaziuk is chasing all over town, looking for his hag.

Came back from Slawobory and off she went.

-He's so angry it's scary.
-But he's done chasing already.

He's sitting at home, drinking...

And waiting.
Saw him through the window.

-He'll beat the shit out of her again.

-Why's she in with him,
if she's so popular.

-What do you think?
You think everyone'd jump right to it?

If Kaziuk threw her out,
or if she'd walk out�

To have a good time,
get some� then send her back.

Let him feed her!
Everyone's a freeloader, what'd you think?

-Eh, hags.
Always were and always will be.

It's best we'd have a drink.

-Hey!

-You startled me.

You startled me, friend.

-Been to the lodge?

-Have been indeed..

-Brought us a little something?

-Indeed I have.

-Would you sprinkle up a bit�
our fountain is all dry.

Later I'll get some fresh stuff
from the house.

-That's right, the fresh stuff.

-If I know you well, Mr Peresada, you don't need to go to the house...

Because there's not a drop there.

-Hell, you're good. Me and young Batiuk, we'll put it together...

to get you some of that wine, the French one, La Patique...

-That's right! Lapatik!

-What do you say, Mr Peresada�
Young Batuk's not so young at all�

-Let me tell you, New.

Just like you're New,
so Young Batiuk here is Young, that's all.

-Kaziuk.

-Where is she?

Where's that bitch?

Where the hell is that bitch!?

-Forget the bitches, Kaziuk,
they always were and always will be!

-Where!?

-Bitch!

-Your laughter is an insult to the grand sorrow of the universe.

-Let's call it a day, Kaziuk.

-Such a shiny medal on him,
like a captain or major�

-Or the colonel himself!

Why aren't you dancing, huh?

-Somehow I don't feel like it.

-You don't like our gals?

-Zenek, have a look.
City lad forgot his tongue.

What then,
don't you like our gals?

-Haven't really looked.

-Why aren't you dancing?
Wanna dance with us?

-Should I call our guys?

-Should I � ?

-Call 'em.

-Here for long?

-A month or two� to rest a bit.

-Just like me.

Please!

-Please!

-Let me show you something.

-First you scared me,
then those three, at the dances...

-Indeed� I apologise.

-I got this from Peresada.
The one who took on Kaziuk's axiliad.

-I feel sorry for that man.

He'll rot in prison if he gets
his hands on her in a bout�

Ooh, how he howled�

-Like a wolf he howled.

-I can still hear it� that howl.

-It has been writ in the air,
and will reverberate for a long time still.

Which guys did you mean?

-Which guys? The general ones. Our boys.

The November Uprising ones�

-Uh-uh.
So� the January Uprising too then�.

-Sure. Also the ones...
from the Silesian Uprisings...

-The Warsaw Uprising ones too?

-Yes. Them too I meant.

-If you had called them, if they'd heed...

It would have been a mighty
and beautiful army� of ghosts.

-The three of them retreat like they knew
what was upon them.

-What did they want with you, really?

-I'm not sure. Something wasn't right.

-Oh. So it goes.
I must tell you I'm the same.

Either someone's very displeased
with something, or likes it too much.

It comes to one and the same.

If there's someone who likes it too much,
theres always another who's very displeased.

-To your health.

-Mine�

...and yours.

-Ours.

-I met a guy recently, on a train.
I liked him a lot.

Not by the looks, but what he said.

-And?

-Every other time I find myself
outside of it all...

Outside the galaxy's ellipse,
so to speak.

And from there, from beyond...

Like on a platter,
I have seen all the vividness.

-All the vividness, you say...

-Not me, it's his words.

-And on the platter, like fruit...

Melon, watermelon, apples, plums...
all the celestial bodies.

And somewhere in the midst of the crowd, is our Earth.

Small as a cherry.

And then, when I was beyond, far beyond...

I've seen in all vividness that it's not
at all about what's happening on the cherry�

Life, death, love, hate�
good, evil and so forth�

But all of this put together
and laid out on a platter.

-It may be godlike, but�
horribly inhuman.

-You're right.
Because we rarely go beyond the ellipse...

Usually we're here, on the cherry...

Here, it really is all about life,
love, goodness, justice�

That's what you have to fight for.

That's all the vividness of here.

-What about the guy?

-'What's your name'
I asked when he was getting off.

'Be well' he only said.

Be well� such a simple and beautiful farewell.

-You intend on staying with us long?

-A month or two� just so I rest.

-Best till spring for a good rest...

-Spring, or even summer.

-Exactly.

-Have you lads been
to the party yesterday?

-We were.
-But left before midnight.

-Two horses stolen from the firehouse�

Kaziuk completely loses it...

And, at dawn, a battle of
Hopla with Cerniawa.

A handful of memories.

How about a little hair of the dog?

-We haven't really drank.

-Surely...

Cecilia,
pour us a bit from that wicker jug.

-Mr Peresada, my god...

-Excuse me?

-Nothing, I'm sorry.

-Good thing the highlanders
come only tomorrow.

If they had arrived yesterday�
Ooh, that'd be quite something.

-So they are coming.

-As every year. You'll have company.

-I don't know about Pradera,
but I'm more of a loner�

Ever since she left me.

-Left! Left?

-Left.

-She took to leaving?

-Took to leaving.

-She'd rather with another?

-She'd rather with another.

-So she went with him?

-No.
She stayed with him. I left.

-We went to hang ourselves,
out of sorrow...

-No. We went to the train tracks�
out of sorrow.

-And in the last moment
we used our head?

-No.

At the last moment
we returned to earth from the ellipse.

-Clearly enough,
it didn't run us over...

-Clearly it didn't.

-Good day all.

My hands are wet
so I'm not greeting you.

-Did Grandma Olenka tell you
about when the highlanders got drunk?

One of them wanted in with her in bed.

-What can one say, gentlemen?

-Yes, we heard.

-The poor fellow got it all wrong.

-Really now, what can one say, gentlemen.

-So then� welcome amongst us, Mr�

-Michal Katny�

-� Mr Katny, amongst the Forest People.

-I recently found this letter on the street.

A guy in jail writes to a friend
on the outside�

Want to hear some?

-Read.

-'As I fall from life's grace,
everyone turns away...

... I only have two desires left�

... first, that my teeth don't go bad...

... second, you'll laugh,
to ride around town by tram.'

-What's he in for?

-It doesn't say.

-Doesn't say�

-How about a game?

-Let's play.

-What's the stake?

-Everything, if you like.

-Yours�. or mine?

-You choose.

-No. I only play wiseguys.

Because I play well...
too well, one might say.

-Want to switch?

-Alright. You'll know mine,
I'll know yours�

-I'm here, little girl.

-Come now, John.

I'M GONE LOGGING -MICHAL
I NEED TO GO NOW -JOHN

-Here's that flashlight
for Grandma Olenka.

-JOHN!

Could knock yourself down

Every move, each step

Each night, you sob

And despair

But- is it worth it?

Maybe it's not?

I guess it's not�

Probably not

No, no - not worth it

Could die in a snap

A knife to the veins

Or under, to the pavement

From upon

But- is it worth it?

Maybe it's not?

I guess it's not�

Probably not

No, no - not worth it

Could reach the cities

or to the forest, the pastures

To horse, and race

The firmament

But- is it worth it?

Maybe it's not?

I guess it's worth it

Oh yes, that's worth it!

So dearly worth it!