Original subtitles

PARENTHESIS

Now, that time has passed...

so many years...

since our only meeting...

I would like to remind you that spring day.

I want you to relive those 6 hours we lived together.

Always, I was thinking that the incidental events are the most important in our lives.

That's why our contact

left me with something, I've never met before.

Of course you know, as � also do, that our story didn't grow to a big love.

It didn't become a story like those in books

Nothing special happened in those 6 hours of the train's delay.

I don't know about you

I don't even know, where you are now.

I don't even know if you remember my existence.

Many times in every-day life I considered...

What this parenthesis meant to you?

I never found an answer...

Now, that time has passed...

so many years, since our only meeting...

I'm comming to remind you that spring day...

We were both returning from a trip

You had gone to a provincial town to deliver some architectural drawings

I was returning from some distant relatives

I would continue my trip to my husband, to another town.

We talked. You didn't ask my name...

neither did I.

That's how we met.

And we bandied easy words.

Easy, as in every beginning.

Words of train travellers...

Everyone can say those words, when there is no installment.

And after, they forget them.

Now I consider, what can happen in a moment.

Sometimes, this moment can bring you to the end of the world.

I watched you stumble for a while...

and you were looking at me.

I felt my heart strangely stop.

Like then, in my childhood...

when a blond boy was waiting for me in the corner.

The train was reaching your town.

You asked me, if you could send me a card.

At that time, before I could answer...

It was anounced that instead of the 10 minutes stop,

the train would remain in your town for 6 hours.

You smiled. You can't leave, you said.

Then you suggested we passed together those hours.

I know, I didn't have the right to dream.

but I agreed to it.

You were born here.

All the childhood years are similar

At first, the world is your house.

Then, the road you see from the window.

Then, the neighborhood.

As you walk from one way to the other, something is growing inside you.

The town seems to you increasingly big.

But instead of knowing it, you lose it.

And when you start to say that you get to know it,

you understand it didn't give you its secrets.

How little you know it.

Then, you told me that you decided once to learn all the secrets of the town...

its history..

so you can say you know everything.

You read its history from the books...

but only a strange colour remained.

Chronologies that change position.

Buccaneer ships that anchor.

An unreal battleship.

All the world that passed...

tells you it was wrong to ask to learn it.

Only that colour remained.

As if you caressed a cheek and your fingers stopped on a wrinkle.

I understood how much you loved this town.

How much you talked about it...

I didn't ask you why.

Every man's past belongs to him.

Lets' say, it's been a long since we met...

and lets' say, the hours we passed together, were years.

In dreams, everything can happen in the same moment.

I know that I'll not dream of you, when I'll have left. Neither you will.

So, we will live this hours, knowing that they will never come again.

We have a 6 hours deadline. We are together.

The big, eternal loves that become statues and books, are not like our story.

Its existence in the world is a matter of indifference.

Its story was written for us, in 6 hours.

Every love has its own secret, which is unlike any other.

If someone saw you or me, would he recognise us?

Why was I laughing? Why was I happy?

Consider that we both didn't say our names.

You said that tomorrow we won't be able to talk about all these to us, or to others.

These 6 hours will born a secret, we got to keep.

It was a realy good day...

and when I asked you where we are going, At the edge of the world..

Then, I wanted to tell you a word to take it with you.

To have it with you, tomorrow.

Maybe and the other day, too.

A word to join you at the dawns.

Why do you always turn and look me in the eyes?

We can be tricked when we want.

Is this flimflam the truth?

Something you said...

You remembered the summer moon and a song, at a road in the sunrise.

That's how you gave me a part of your life.

You didn't say anything more.

You designed our home in the sand.

The fence, the portal, the balcony

the road, the rose garden, the windows with a sea view.

You prefered armchairs with wan purple velvet, which makes them seem old.

You didn't want hidden light.

The lamps will be low, on the tables...

and big vases at the corners.

I'd cut alone the flowers from the garden.

What if we knew that this house would never be made for us.

We had already enjoy it.

We had seen the moon set.

The fireplace in the corner...

The garden getting green, and getting pale by the winter wind.

From then on, the dream stayed untasted in my heart.

We hesitated at the edge of the forest.

We wanted for an hour to look at the watch.

The shade of the quick breakup was between us.

The time was going by...

The light was getting glimmer.

You were looking at me.

You had understood everything I couldn't tell you..

Everyting I didn't manage to tell you.

Then, I thought that a man can't aproach a woman's loneliness.

What can a photograph keep?

Only that moment.

It was my idea to take this photograph together.

In a moment I would leave.

That was a way to take something yours.

Something mine.

An unrepeatable moment in the time.

We agreed not to show them anywhere

To be only for us.

At the winter nights, I would pick them out of the drawer to see them...

and the memory of that spring day would flap inside me.

With photographs, nothing gets forgotten or changed.

I wanted to have always with me a little of the 6 hours...

to remember you at the moments of loneliness..

When I'll be nowhere for you,

you will be near me.

You shouldn't get sad.

Don't look at me.

In a few moments we will part.

Don't get sad.

I see you standing alone here another day.

When much time would have passed from today,

I would be nowhere for you, then.

I always wanted to fly above the clouds.

They didn't allow me.

No one allowed me ever.

Everyone called happines this continuity; the everyday life.

And now, you, in these 6 hours, you gave me the change.

The flight.

Thank you.

Your home was at this road.

You asked me to come up if I wanted.

I looked at you.

That moment, like at my first love,

for which I didn't want to talk you about.

After, you walked up the stairs.

No, maybe it was a mistake we reached this point

Maybe it was a mistake even that we met.

But I wasn't neither stronger nor weaker than you.

I was like you.

I knew that nothing will be left from this meeting, but a shadow.

No. I wouldn't come up.

I knew that tommorow we wouldn't be together, since we would lose one another, forever.

But if something was flapping inside me, it wasn't for that moment,

but for tomorrow, when you wouldn't be by me.

No. It shouldn't end like this.

You understood that...

without telling me.

When we left your house, I remembered another house. Mine.

Another time. Another spring.

It was a date with someone I loved.

I was late, and I run to meet him at the big sundeck.

I waited him. He hadn't appeared yet.

The time was passing.

And then, I thought I saw him, and I ran to him.

I was weaving him from distance.

When I reached him, I understood it wasn't him, but someone else.

I felt a gripping on my heart

The stranger strayed, and I stayed there too.

It started to mist.

Then I ran to another place in the forest to find him.

But he also wasn't there.

Then, you narrated a night you passed paging through a book and maundering at the streets of your town.

It was a night of loneliness, but of happiness too.

It was a night of searching in the books the knowledge of others.

You also searched to find what happiness means for other people.

And the only thing you understood was that real happines can be outside us, too.

Far away, and very close to us.

Here, at the edge of the sea, the parenthesis of the 6 hours was ending.

If I look inside me, I will hear the same heartbeat of the early years.

What obligates us to get ensured?

We've reached something that we both couldn't imagine before.

So, was it a game that wasn't game?

What can be measured by time?

Who is able to know that this "something", which chance gave us, was not large?

Now that the dream passed inside us,

it becomes reality.

Don't run to overhaul it.

Don't say farewell to it.

Yes. For me, this was the most important parentesis in my life.

The time passed.

6 hours passed.

The parenthesis got closed.

We finished.

Near the sea, I said farewell to you.

We agreed, you won't accompany me to the station.

It would be easier.

I knew I wouldn't see you again.

I would return to my home and you would stay in your town.

Then you said that you wanted to give me something to remember you.

You seeked.

But you found nothing.

And then, you said a word.

One and only word.

Goodbye.

I didn't admit that we finished.

No. I didn't admit that.

As the train left, I didn't see you. As we agreed.

But just, little by litlle, I dreamed I returned to your town,

and lived again our parentesis, but in winter now.

Much time has passed from that day.

How is the street, the sea, the forest, the sky?

It's like a sudden pain that burns the eyes.

No. I didn't find you again

But the parenthesis that joined us, returned.

You are by me again.

We speak together again.

We went together, near your childhood dreams.

I had thought of asking it you, then.

To write a letter one to the other, before we parted.

I had some papers and envelopes in my bag.

I gave one to you and I took one too.

I told you, that we'll write a letter, as if years have passed

Then we exchanged them.

What did you write?

My dear,

You will begin tonight.

You will leave.

Our break will come with no other installment.

You can imagine, that for me you won't exist any more.

And that for you, I will not exist, too.

I will not know the town where you will go.

I will not come.

I will not come there, looking for you.

I will not be able to remember you.

You ask me, if I remembered your house.

No. It wasn't that.

The door doesn't look like yours.

We walked together until I found it.

It is so nice to be with you.

Everything seems great and important to me.

How a story that lasted a few hours, could fill up a life?

And yet, it left me a great mark.

A night, years before, I heard them talking about a woman.

She had a romantic adventure.

An emotion.

Someone asked her something.

A cold silence followed.

He denied to believe it.

Emotion; eros; me?... He said.

And then?

No. He didn't learn the details.

At these stories, there are no details.

A little time ago, it was different.

We could speak about seperation.

About memories.

Now, the distance is getting bigger.

And before the end,

the seperation came.

I want to remember something...

something.

We left alone in the snowy forest.

And we decided to find something.

Something to replace us.

That way, the seperation would be easier.

We walked into the snow.

We both thought apart.

And then,

we returned to the same place.

For me, nothing could take your place.

You said the same.

Tell me how the distance can get lost.

How the moment we lived can return.

Now, that I am looking for you, I want to repel the end's shadow.

But whatever I do, the dream itself is what keeps the distance.

Do you remember what you told me?

We can see each other even if we won't be together.

When we will remember seperately one another,

the story we changed would be already dead.

That's what you told me.

Did I look sad to you?

I wasn't.

Happiness was flooding my heart.

You understood that.

You talk again about favourable places,

for long trips and passed glees.

You talk again about you and me.

In the winter's cold you talk about summer moons.

About songs you hear comming from the sea.

And you ask me if I could see and hear all these, too.

I see you in the back, like into the fog,

facing, with the same eyes, other days, other glees.

You speak me like then.

Like you have found me again, too. Like you were looking for me.

I feel that the winter dream is ending.

These are the last moments.

And it's our last noon.

But let's say that this is our start, and let's make the big table.

As if we are waiting for guests.

As if it's a feast.

Don't get sad because of my departure.

Don't get sad because we 're left alone.

If you hadn't come... If I hadn't met you...

everything would be different.

I would be back, in another life.

Where I belong.

You had stopped talking.

We are becoming the dream of all those who are watching us.

Maybe they will laugh, because they don't believe.

They don't believe that we exist, because the don't imagine it.

All these are possible.

I feel that I lose you.

You didn't hurt me.

You didn't tricked me.

You didn't forget me.

The moments are playing their last game.

The parenthesis ended.

So, was it a lie?

Do you believe it?

Say that we will continue.

That the parenthesis of the 6 hours will be all our life.

And let's seperate.

What is it?

I don't hear you anymore.

The time is passing.

I lose you.

Give me your hand.

Give me your hand.