Original subtitles

As his mother's womb yet held the growing Baal

The sky above was vast and still and pale

Young and bare and immensely wondrous

Just how Baal loved it when Baal came to us

Through Baal's lust and pain the sky remained there

Even when Baal slumbered blissfully unaware

At night a violet sky, a drunken Baal

Baal's dawn is holy, the sky apricotpale

Amid the shameful swarm of sinners

Baal lay naked and wallowed unconcerned

Just the sky, oh never-ending sky

Majestically covered his nakedness

At the bloated vultures Baal squints up

They circle above to see when Baal will die

Sometimes Baal plays dead, vultures land to eat

Baal dines in silence on vulture meat

Beneath gloomy stars in this vale of tears

Baal grazes broad fields and smacks his lips

Once the fields are bare Baal skips with a song

Into the eternal woods to get some sleep

And when the dark womb drags Baal down inside

What is the world to Baal then? Baal is full

Baal has so much sky in his eye

That when he dies he still will have enough

When the dark, earthy womb held the rotting Baal

The sky above was yet vast and still and pale

Young and bare and utterly sublime

Just how Baal loved it in Baal's time

You must publish your poetry.

Herr Mech is a regular Maecenas. You can leave that garret.

I have entire forests of cinnamon trees floating down Brazil's rivers,

but I'll publish your poetry too.

- You live in a garret? . - 64 Sewer Street.

I'm not fat enough for poetry.

I'll write a piece on you. You have manuscripts? .

I have the backing of the press.

Ladies and gentlemen, I admit I was shocked

to find a man like him in such modest circumstances.

As you know, I discovered our dear poet

working as a simple clerk in my office.

I won't hesitate to say that it's a disgrace for our city

that such luminaries should be working for a daily wage.

Congratulations, Herr Mech.

Your salon will be known

as the cradle of this genius's worldwide fame.

To your health, Herr Baal.

How do you achieve such naïveté? . It's positively Homeric.

I consider Homer to be one or several literate compilers

who took delight in the naïveté of folk epics.

- More eel, please. - But your asset is great immodesty.

Baal sings his lyrics to truckers...

in a tavern by the river.

More champagne.

You must travel. The Abyssinian highlands would suit you.

Then those highlands should come to me.

why? A person with your zest . for life needs no reality.

Your poems moved me deeply.

Truckers pay for what they like.

I’ll publish your poetry and let my cinnamon trees float away, or both.

You shouldn't drink so much.

I have no shirts.

I could use some white shirts.

You're not interested in being published? .

But they have to be soft. Ladies' blouses, perhaps.

You write wonderful poems, Herr Baal.

They show such sensitivity.

Don't drink so much, Herr Baal.

Floating cinnamon trees? . Butchered forests huh? ,.

I didn't mean to -

Publication doesn't seem to interest you.

- You trade in animals too. - You object?.

- What's my poetry to you? - I meant to do you a favor.

will you peel me an apple Emilie? ,.

He's scared of being sucked dry.

How might I serve you? .

Do you always wear wide sleeves Emilie? ,.

You must stop drinking that wine.

How about a bath? Shall I have a bed made up? .

Haven't you forgotten something? . - Go easy on the alcohol.

The shirts are floating away. The poetry's already floated off.

why monopolies? . Go to bed, Mech.

I like all God's creatures,

but one can't do business with this animal.

Come, Emilie. Come, gentlemen.

There are limits even for genius.

Your poetry has a vicious streak.

what's the gentleman's name? Piller! . Send me some old newspapers.

You mean nothing to me. You mean nothing to literature.

Is there something eIse you want from him Frau Mech? ,.

I don't know. Someone should look after him.

- You should be ashamed! - You should be ashamed.

I can't help it if I'm pickled from your wine.

Must I swallow your twaddle just so I can fill my belly?.

when you lie sprawled in the grass at night,

you feel in your bones that the Earth is round and we're flying...

and that there are animals on this star eating up its plants.

It's one of the smaller stars.

- You know about astronomy? . - No.

My sweetheart is the most innocent woman alive,

but once, in a dream, I saw her ravished by a juniper tree.

Her pale body was stretched out on the juniper,

its gnarled branches embracing her.

I haven't been able to sleep since.

- Have you ever seen her pale body? . - No, she's innocent. Even her knees.

There are degrees of innocence, don't you think? .

Still, when I hold her for a moment at night,

she trembles like a leaf.

I don't dare. She's only 17.

- Did she enjoy love in your dream?. - Yes.

Love is like biting into an orange so the juice squirts through your teeth.

It's like letting your bare arm float in a pond

with weeds between your fingers.

Limbs as loose as plants in the wind.

The force of the collision is like flying into a gale.

Her body tumbles over you like cool pebbles.

But enough of this aria.

So you think I should do it? .

I think you should steer clear, Johannes.

Orge said to me...

the dearest place for him on Earth

is not the grass by his parents' graves.

It's not a confessional box, nor a whore's bed,

nor a woman's lap, all soft, white, warm, and fat.

Orge said to me the dearest place on Earth

for him was always the latrine.

A place where one is content

with stars above and dung below.

A place of humility where you realize

that you're just a man who can't hold on to anything.

There you realize what you are indeed -

just a guy sitting on a latrine to feed.

Bravo!

He made that up all by himself.

You're really something, Herr Baal.

- wish I had brains like that. - Don't get carried away.

Brains come with a backside and all the rest. Cheers!

This is Johanna.

Hello.

Johannes read me your poems.

- How old are you? - Seventeen in June.

I’m jealous. Johannes raves about you.

You're in love with your Johannes.

It's spring. I’m waiting for Emilie.

Loving is better than mere pleasure.

You may touch the hearts of men, but how do you succeed with women? .

That can be learned.

Here she comes.

He threw me out of his white pad,

but his wife ran after me. Now I can't get rid of her.

why did you have me come here? .

with all these lowlifes! Is this how your taste runs? .

Luise! A gin for the lady.

- You mean to make a fool of me? . - No. Drink.

we're all human.

- You're not! - what do you know? .

Damn but you're soft today, like a plum.

- You're so vulgar! - Shout it out, darling.

Maybe we should go down to the river, Johannes.

Nothing doing. Stay here.

The sky is violet, especially when you're drunk.

whereas beds are white... at first.

That's where love is, between heaven and earth.

why are you such cowards? .

You've drunk too much again. Now you're babbling.

And with that damnable, wonderful babble...

he lures you to his sty.

The sky is sometimes yellow too,

with birds of prey in it.

You must all get drunk!

who's kicking my shin? . Is that you Luise? ,.

Ah, it was you, Emilie.

well, no matter. Drink up.

I don't know what's wrong with you today.

Maybe I shouldn't have come. - Just realizing that now? .

Might as well stay now.

You shouldn't do this, Herr Baal.

You have a good heart, Johanna. You won't betray your man, eh?

want to come with us? . We'll leave together.

I feel so ashamed now.

I understand. It doesn't matter.

Don't look at me like that.

You're still so young.

You don't know anything yet. - what a farce! "Sisters in Hades."

He's been drinking. He'll regret it tomorrow.

Cheers, Emmi.

At least drink, if you can't do anything else. Drink!

That's it.

That'll light a fire in you.

If you only knew. He's always like this.

And I love him.

- Orgauer! - what do you want? .

A woman's being mistreated here and wants love.

Give her a kiss.

Go on!

Yes, do.

You're a bastard, Herr Baal.

Are you cold Emmi? ,.

You love me? .

He's shy, Emmi. You kiss him.

If you make me look bad now, it's all over.

One...

two...

She deserves a spanking!

You should be ashamed!

why are your knees shaking, Johanna? .

Did you feel that? Did it get under your skin? .

That was a circus!

You have to lure the beast out into the sun!

My bill!

Out into the daylight with love.

Someone exposed their white bum here today.

Good-bye, Herr Circus!

Baal, stop it.

Come with me, brother, to the hard, dusty roads,

where the evening air turns violet and the dive bars are full of drunks.

The women you've stuffed fall into black rivers.

To the cathedrals with little white women.

You'll say "May one breathe here?" ,.

To the cowsheds where one sleeps among beasts.

They're gloomy, full of the mooing of cows.

To the forests where axes ring out above

and one forgets the light of the sky.

God has forgotten you.

You still remember how the sky looks? .

Luise, an anchor!

Don't let me go with him! Help me!

Come, brother. Dance and music and drinking.

The rain soaking you...

the sun scorching you...

darkness...

and light.

- Dear God! - Remember your art and be strong.

Shame on you! - Come, brother Baal.

Like two white doves we'll fly blissfully into the blue.

Rivers in the light of dawn, windswept graveyards,

the smell of endless fields before they're mown.

- Be strong, Herr Baal. - Don't do it. It's not worth it.

Not yet. There's another way. They won't come along, brother.

Then go to hell with your fat heart.

- Can't you postpone it? . - No You coming or not? ..

You won this time, Herr Baal.

You can relax now, Emmi.

It's over now.

what have I done? .

I’m wicked. - You'd better wash.

I still don't know how it happened.

It's all Johannes's fault.

He brought you here and then split

when he realized why your knees were shaking.

- What if he came back? - Here comes the literary bit.

Dawn on Mount Ararat...

- Should I get up? . - ...after the flood.

Stay where you are.

won't you open the window? .

I love that smell.

How about another helping? . what's gone is gone.

You can be so vile.

white and cleansed by the flood,

Baal lets his thoughts soar like doves over the dark waters.

where's my blouse? .

I can't - - Here what can't you do my love? .,.

Go home.

She's a wild little thing.

I feel every bone in my body.

Give me a kiss.

Say something.

Do you still love me? .

Say it.

Can't you say it? .

I’m fed up to the teeth!

Then what was last night about...

and just now?.

Did you wash up? .

No practical sense at all. Did you get nothing out of it? .

Go home.

Tell Johannes I took you home yesterday

and that I puke bile on him.

It rained.

Johannes...

If a woman gives all, so says Baal

Let her go, for she has no more

Men, fear not women They are trivial

But children frighten even Baal

Drinking makes the evening sky

very dark, sometimes violet.

Then your body in a shirt to rip...

You said we should come by again.

...in a broad white bed.

Here we are, Herr Baal.

Now the doves come fluttering in pairs. Get undressed!

Mother heard us on the stairs last week.

It was already dusk.

- One day I’ll be stuck with you. - I’d rather drown myself.

- I feel ashamed. - It's not the first time...

- It's so light. It's high noon. - ...nor the second.

- You undress too. - I will.

when you're ready, come over here.

It will be dark, all right.

- You go first today. - I went first last time.

- No, I did. - You'll both come together.

we're ready.

It's so bright in here. - Is it warm outside?

- It's only April. - But the sun's warm today.

Did you enjoy it last time?.

A girl drowned herself in the river. Johanna Reiher.

In the Laach. I wouldn't go near it. The current's too strong.

Drowned herself? . Anyone know why? .

There are rumors going around.

- She stayed out all night. - She didn't go home the next day? .

No. They still haven't found her body.

Still floating...

- what's wrong, sister?. - Probably just a chill.

I’m too lazy today. Go home.

You can't do that to her, Herr Baal.

- Someone's knocking. - It's Mother.

Don't open it!

I’m scared.

Here's your blouse.

Don't open yet. Bolt the door, for God's sake.

well, well.

I thought as much.

Two at a time now.

Aren't you ashamed? Two in his fishpond at once? .

From dawn till dusk till dawn again, his bed never gets cold.

well, now I’ll have my say.

My attic isn't a brothel.

Who nailed these tree corpses to the wall? .

The pale ivory air around the tree corpses.

It's Corpus Christi! - The bells ring as the trees die.

The bells lift my spirits.

Don't the trees depress you? .

Ha! Tree cadavers!

women's bodies are no better.

what do women's bodies have to do with processions? .

They're both obscene.

You don't love anyone.

I love the white body of Christ.

I put poems to paper,

but these days they get hung up in lavatories.

To serve my lord Jesus.

I see the white body of Jesus.

Jesus loved sinners. - Like me.

Know the story about Jesus and the dead dog? .

Everyone said, "It stinks! Call the police! It's unbearable!"

But he said, "It has beautiful white teeth."

Maybe I’ll become Catholic.

He didn't.

But nailing women's bodies to the wall - I wouldn't do that.

Nail them to the wall? .

They never floated down the river. They were slaughtered.

For the white body of Jesus.

You have too much religion or too much gin in you.

So you won't stand up for your ideals

or join the procession?.

You love plants and do nothing for them!

I’m going down to the river to wash.

I don't care about corpses.

I have gin in my blood.

I can't stand these damned dead trees!

with lots of gin inside you...

maybe you could bear it.

For four days now I’ve been covering this paper with red summer...

pale, wild, and voracious...

and wrestling with the gin bottle.

There have been defeats...

but the bodies are starting to fall back to the walls

and flee into the Egyptian darkness.

I nail them to the walls, but I have to stop drinking.

Gin is my rod and my staff...

but now my hands are shaking...

as if the bodies were still inside them.

I’m a lover without a beloved.

I’m succumbing.

I have to move out, but first I'll get myself a woman.

Moving out alone is sad.

Anyone with a face like a woman.

This is my studio.

what are you doing here? .

- I just wanted - - You wanted, did you?.

There you stand, a tombstone for my late Johanna.

Johanna's corpse from another world.

Get out right now.

You've got some nerve!

It's spring anyway.

what did that young man do to you? .

Let me go.

Turn right at the first floor.

They'll find me.

A man followed us when you suddenly approached me.

No one will find you here.

Out there you said you were a photographer.

That's what I said out there.

Then I’m going. I was on my way to the theater to play Judith.

You can go any time.

You accosted me on the street.

It's spring right? ,.

I must have something white...

in this damned hole.

A cloud.

A thousand people are waiting. They'll fire me if I don't show.

I’m not stopping you.

I don't know you.

What do you want with me? - If you have to ask, you can leave.

I don't know why I'm still here.

I can tell you.

Should I stay? .

You have to play Judith.

- I feel so weak. - I know why.

It's April.

It's getting dark, and you smell me.

That's how it is with animals.

Now you belong to the wind, white cloud.

Let me go.

My name is Baal.

Let me go.

You must comfort me.

The winter left me weak.

But you look like a woman.

You're so ugly.

So ugly that it's frightening.

But then...

that doesn't matter.

- Are your knees steady? . - Do you even know my name? .

It's Sophie Barger.

You have to forget that.

- No! - How old are you? .

- Twenty-four in June. - How many men have you had? .

So you've got that over with. Come!

In this wooden attic cascades of bodies have lain,

but now I want a face.

At night we'll go out and lie beneath the bushes.

You're a woman. I’ve become unclean.

You must love me for a while.

That's how you are. I’m fond of you.

The sky's above us now, and we're all alone.

- But you must lie still. - Like a child.

Do you have family? . - My mother.

Is she old? .

She's 70.

Then she's accustomed to evil.

what if I’m swallowed up by the earth?

Or dragged into a cave never to return? ,. - Never?

The air in here is like milk.

The river willows are wet and disheveled from rain.

You must have pale thighs.

- They knocked the lamp over again. - Only pigs ever come here.

There's a postcard for you.

Marseille...

Ekart wants me to come to the Black Forest.

where's my ration of gin? .

Mjurk says no more gin before the show. Sorry.

Clear out, Lupu.

I must have my gin, Mjurk, or there's no poetry.

Don't drink so much. You won't be able to sing.

what else do I sing for? .

Apart from the stripper, you're the star of the show.

I discovered you myself.

Never was such a tender soul buried in such a hunk of fat.

It's the hunk of fat that brings success, not the poetry.

Your gin habit is ruining me.

I’m tired of haggling every night for the gin I’m owed by contract.

The police are on my side.

You're on.

I’m done for the night.

You don't go onstage half naked here.

He's only working for the woman he lives with. He's a genius.

My heart is pure, and I am small, and now I must amuse you all.

He's telling them. Now he's showing them.

He's throwing it in their faces.

Thank God someone's finally calling a spade a spade.

They want thrills, but no one admits it.

The wind blows through the rooms, and the baby eats blue prunes.

Its white body, soft like fleece, helps it pass the time in peace.

I’ll have your hide.

You'll sing as stated in your contract,

or I’ll call the police.

where are you going? .

Get out here!

Is your star attraction in the can? .

I forbid you to lock yourself in!

Not while I’m paying you!

I have it in writing!

The window's open. The vulture has flown.

No gin, no poetry. - I’m calling the police.

The rain has stopped. The grass must still be wet.

But the leaves around us didn't let the water through.

The roots are still dry.

why can't a man sleep with a plant? .

Listen.

The wind whooshing through the dark, wet foliage.

Hear the rain dripping through the leaves?

I feel a drop on my neck.

Leave me alone, Baal.

Love rips off a man's clothes and buries him naked in leaves

once he's seen the sky.

I’d like to hide inside you, because I’m naked.

I’m drunk and you're staggering.

The sky's black, we swing with love in our bellies, and the sky's black.

I love you.

My mother's weeping over my dead body.

She thinks I’ve drowned myself.

How many weeks has it been? .

It wasn't even May yet.

Maybe three weeks.

"Maybe three weeks," said the beloved amid the tree roots,

when it had been 30 years and she was half rotted.

It's good to lie here like plunder...

with the sky up above...

and never be alone again.

I’ll take your dress off again.

You know we're out of money? .

It was an oak.

He didn't die at once.

He suffered.

Just this morning he said the weather was getting better.

This is how he liked it: green with a touch of rain.

He was a good fellow, Teddy was.

He had a little shop somewhere back in his prime.

Baal's not walking straight, boys.

Leave him alone. The elephant's hammered.

what are you doing with Teddy, elephant? .

He has his peace, and we have our turmoil.

Both are good.

The sky is black. The trees are trembling.

Somewhere clouds are billowing. That's the picture.

we can eat. After we sleep, we wake up.

Not him. Us.

It's doubly good.

- what's the sky like? . - The sky is black.

He's weak in the head. It always the wrong people who get it.

That's marvelous, my friend. You're right.

Couldn't happen to Baal. He's never around when work's going on.

But Teddy was a hard worker.

Teddy was generous. Teddy was good-natured.

One thing remains: Teddy was.

I wonder where he is now.

He's right here. He doesn't stink yet.

Has anyone made a speech? . Isn't that the thing to do? .

- I did. - when? .

Earlier, before you guys started prattling.

It started, "Teddy has his peace."

You only notice things when they're over.

Moron.

- Let's get his gin. - Teddy's gin at Teddy's wake.

Cheap and fitting.

Your body wasn't so bad, my poor Teddy.

Even now it's not.

Just a bit damaged on one side.

And your legs.

It'd have been no more women for you.

You can't put something like that on top of a woman.

But all in all...

there was more life to be lived in that body

if you'd put your mind to it, my boy.

But you were too damned noble of soul.

The building was defective,

and rats abandon a sinking ship.

Elephant, you're in trouble now.

where's the brandy from under Teddy's bed? .

where were you when we were helping him? .

- where were you you swine? ,. - He wasn't even dead yet.

You have no proof, my friends.

where's the brandy? . Did it evaporate?

This is serious.

Stand up!

walk four paces and then tell us you're not drunk.

You're rotten through and through, you swine!

A man died in the eternal woods as a storm roared all around him

Died like a beast in talons of roots, looking up at the treetops

Where above the woods the storm raged unabated

People stood all around and tried to calm him

"We'll carry you home, friend"

But he kicked and spat and said, "Yeah? Where?"

For he had no home or land

"How many teeth have you left? And how's the rest of you?

Try to die quietly with a bit less fuss

We already ate your horse last night

Why this to-do about going to hell?"

And the woods resounded around him and them

They watched as he clung to a tree and heard him shriek

It horrified them and their clenched fists trembled

For he was a man like them

"You're foul and useless, a mangy beast

Just pus and grime, you ragged heap

You're breathing up our air in your greed, " they said

And he, the festering sore, said...

"I want to live and take in your sun

And ride in the light like you"

Yes, the sheer weight of life's excess

Pressed his rotting carcass into the earth

At dawn he fell down dead in the dark grass

Disgusted, they buried him cold with hate

In the deepest undergrowth

If the winter doesn't end soon, I give up.

- You still haven't chopped your wood. - I’m hungry!

- You should have helped the woodcutters. - It was too cold.

I can't work with those people.

- Then you must be calm. - Busy with your mass I suppose? ,.

Forget my mass. Think of your woman.

She runs after us like a madwoman, a millstone around my neck.

- You're sinking deeper and deeper. - I’m too heavy.

- I suppose you don't plan on croaking. - I'll fight it to the end.

I want to live even without skin. I'll withdraw into my toes.

I’ll swallow death and know nothing.

You've gotten fat while we've been lying here.

My shirt has gotten bigger. The dirtier, the bigger.

It could hold another person, but no one fat.

why are you just sitting around, you bag of bones?

I have a kind of sky in my skull,

very green and vast.

Thoughts drift through like wispy clouds

in no particular direction.

It's the D.T.'s. They get you in the end.

when the D.T.'s come on, I feel it in my face.

There's room on your face for the wind. It's concave.

I’m getting more and more mathematical.

No one knows your history. why do you never talk about yourself? .

I’ll never have a history.

Who's that outside? - You have good ears.

- You're hiding something inside. - Is that you, Sophie?

Now what do you want? .

Can I come in now Baal? ,.

My knees are giving out. Why are you running?

Because you're hanging around my neck like a millstone.

why treat her like this? . You got her pregnant.

- I wanted it. - And now I'm stuck with her.

You're being a beast. Sit down.

Let him go.

If you throw her in the street, I’m staying with her.

She won't stay with you.

But you'd leave me for her. Just like you.

You took my place in bed twice.

You took my women even though I loved them.

Because you loved them.

Twice I defiled corpses to keep you pure. I need that.

God knows I took no pleasure in it.

And still you love this obvious brute.

I can't help it, Ekart.

I love his corpse.

I love his fists.

I can't help it.

Don't tell me what you two did while I was doing time.

we stood outside the white prison wall and looked up at your window.

- You were together! - Beat me for it.

- You threw her at me! - I didn't love you then.

- I don't have your thick skin. - I love you for that.

At least keep your mouth shut about it when she's around.

Tell her to get lost. She's turning into a bitch.

She washes her dirty laundry in your tears.

Can't you see how she runs naked between us? .

I have the patience of a lamb, but I can't change what I am.

Go home to your mother.

- I can't. - She can't, Ekart.

Beat me if you like.

I won't tell you to slow down again. I didn't mean it.

Let me come as long as I can walk. Then I'll lie down in the bushes.

Don't drive me off.

Throw your fat body in the river.

You wanted me to spit you out. - You'd leave me lying here?

You're not even sure. You're a child to talk like that.

I’m sick to death of you!

Not tonight!

I’m scared to be alone.

I’m afraid of the dark.

No one will bother you in your condition.

Couldn't you two stay with me tonight? .

Go to the bargemen. It's midsummer night. They'll be drunk.

Just 15 minutes.

Come on, Ekart.

- where am I to go? . - To the theater.

Or to heaven.

- with my child? . - Bury it!

I pray you never have cause to remember you said that

under the beautiful sky that you love.

I pray with all my heart.

I’ll stay with you and take you to your mother's

if you say you'll stop loving that animal.

She loves me.

I love that animal.

Are you still here you brute? ,.

You're pressed against me. Can you smell me? .

I’ve got you. There's more than the closeness of women.

You can see stars above the bushes, Ekart.

I can't strike this animal.

It's getting dark. we need a place for the night.

In the woods there are hollows with no wind.

Come. I’ll tell you about the animals.

Through dive, cathedral, and hospital

Baal wanders coolly on and learns to let go

Baal may be weary, my boys, but he doesn't fall far

Baal drags his sky with him down below

The water's warm. we lie in the sand like crabs...

with the bushes and the white clouds in the sky.

Ekart, I love you.

I’m too comfortable here.

Did you see the clouds earlier? .

Yes, they're shameless.

A woman passed by earlier.

I don't care for women anymore.

Since the sky turned green and pregnant...

it's been July air, wind, shirt untucked.

My pants are chafing my bare thighs.

My skull's inflated by the wind,

and the smell of the fields hangs in the hair of my armpits.

The air trembles as if drunk on brandy.

why run from the plum trees like an elephant? .

Put your paw on my skull.

It swells with every heartbeat, then collapses again like a balloon.

Feel it? . You don't understand my soul!

why don't we lie in the water? .

My soul is the moaning of cornfields bending in the wind...

and the gleam in the eyes of two insects about to devour each other.

- If only I’d eaten, you visionary. - what am I? .

A mad July boy with immortal innards,

a dumpling that will leave grease stains on the sky.

Mere words. But it doesn't matter.

Ekart.

wake up. I’ve got it.

Got what? .

Talking in your sleep again? .

Listen to this.

"when she drowned and floated down from stream to great rivers,

the opal sky shone wondrously as if to appease her corpse.

Seaweed and algae clung to her, slowly adding to her weight.

The fish swam coolly between her legs.

Flora and fauna hampered her final voyage.

At dusk the sky turned dark as smoke,

and the stars held the light suspended in the night sky.

But at dawn it grew light, so she too still had both day and night.

when her pale body had decayed in the water,

God bit by bit forgot her.

First her face, then her hands, then last of all her hair.

Then she became more carrion among the other carrion."

Is her ghost haunting you already? .

It's not as wicked as you.

But my sleep is gone now, and the wind pipes again through the willows.

All that's left once again is the white breast of philosophy,

darkness and wetness right up to our blessed end,

and even for old women just their second sight.

In this wind you don't need liquor to get drunk.

I see the world in a mellow light.

It's the excrement of the Lord God.

God who distinguished himself once and for all

by joining urethra and sex organ?.

It's all so beautiful.

The willows are like rotten tooth stumps in the black mouth of the sky.

I’ll start on my mass soon.

Is the quartet finished? .

where would I have found the time? .

It's that pale redhead

that you drag around.

She brings her soft, white body to the willows at noon.

The branches droop like hair, and we fuck like squirrels.

Is she better-looking than me? .

I’ll just satisfy her, the white dove.

There'll be nothing but skin left when he gets here.

I’m sick of his love affairs.

Be still, my soul.

where's your friend? .

writing a mass in E-flat minor.

Tell him I came by.

He's so transparent he's defiled himself. He's relapsing into zoology.

Sit down.

I prefer to stand.

He's been eating too many eggs recently.

- I love him. - what do I care? .

Don't touch me. You're too dirty.

This is your neck.

You know how they kill doves? .

Or wild ducks in the woods? .

Jesus Christ, leave me alone!

With your weak knees? You're already falling over.

You want to be laid in the willows.

A man's a man. Most are alike in this regard.

Please!

Leave me alone!

You shameless quail!

Come on. A rescue by a desperate man.

we need a drink. Got any money? .

No. Look at the maple in the wind.

It's trembling.

where's the girl you dragged around the bars? .

Turn into a fish and look for her.

You eat too much. You'll burst.

I’d like to hear the pop.

You ever look in the water when it's deep and black with no fish? ,.

watch you don't fall in. You're so heavy.

I’ll watch out for someone else. I wrote a song want to hear it? ..

- You haven't had a woman in ages. - So? .

Just thinking. Say no.

- Is this the hospital tavern? . - Yes.

There are no free beds, and I’m ill. - we brought champagne.

Come in!

Anyone who knows champagne will fit in here.

There are some mighty fine people here today.

I know where you got this, but I won't give you away.

Come Ekart Got any glasses? ,..

Cups, my good sir.

I need a cup of my own.

Are you allowed to have champagne? .

what are you sick with? .

Pleurisy. It's nothing.

A little mucous congestion.

Nothing serious.

And you? .

Stomach ulcer. Harmless.

- I trust you have some affliction too? . - I'm insane.

Cheers. Now we've been introduced.

I’m healthy.

I knew a man once who thought he was healthy.

He came from the forest and returned there one day to ponder something.

He found the forest very strange, completely unfamiliar.

One evening at dusk, when he no longer felt so alone,

he walked in the great stillness among the trees

and stopped beneath one of them.

It was the monkey in him.

Yes, perhaps.

He leaned against the tree and felt the life in it, or thought he did.

"You're taller than me, and you stand firm,

and you know the depths of the earth that holds you up.

I can move and run,

but I don't reach deep down, and nothing holds me up."

- what did the tree say? . - The wind blew.

A shudder ran through the tree, which the man felt.

He threw himself to the ground, clutched the wild, hard roots,

and wept bitterly.

Did he regain his health? .

No, but death came more easily.

I don't understand.

No one understands anything, but some things you just feel.

Stories you understand were just told badly.

You believe in God? .

I’ve always believed in myself, but one can turn atheist.

Now I’m feeling happy.

God!

Champagne! Love!

wind and rain!

Let me go! Your breath stinks!

As if you don't have syphilis!

Watch it! I’m slowly getting drunk.

He used to be better-looking. That's how he got her.

And your intellectual superiority? . Your spiritual supremacy? .

She wasn't like that before. She was entirely unspoiled.

- And what did you do? . - I felt ashamed.

Listen! The wind.

It's asking God for peace.

Lullaby baby, safe from the storm

Here we are sheltered and drunk and warm

That's past now, Ekart.

Yes, and it was beautiful.

- what? . - He's forgotten.

"Past" - what a strange word.

The best of all is nothingness.

Here comes Gougou's aria!

The sack of maggots sings!

It's like shimmering air one sunny summer evening.

But it's not shimmering. There's nothing at all.

You simply stop.

wind blows, you don't get cold. Rain falls, you don't get wet.

Jokes are told, you don't laugh. You rot.

No need to wait. General strike.

That's the paradise of hell.

Yes, it is paradise.

No wish is unfulfilled. There are no more wishes.

All habits are abandoned, even wishing.

That's how you become free. - What happens in the end?

Nothing at all.

There is no end. Nothingness lasts forever.

Come, Ekart! we've fallen in with murderers.

The vermin multiply, decay is upon us. The maggots sing and show off!

This again. Is it just from the drinking?.

My guts are hanging out. It's a mud bath.

Sit down.

Get drunk and warm yourself.

Your aria always tickles me so...

little Gougou.

Itsy-bitsy Maja.

I have a soul too.

You've corrupted my soul. You corrupt everything.

And I’ll start on my mass.

I love you.

Cheers.

I’m not going any further with you.

Hands off, you swine.

- what's it to you? . - Hold your tongue, you wretch.

Madman! You're raving.

It's all a swindle! He's not sick.

It's all a swindle.

And you've got cancer.

I’ve got cancer? .

I didn't say anything.

Leave her alone.

- Why is it crying? - what do you want? .

why are you crying? .

Never seen it before? . Or do you always cry? .

Your poor little feet.

Stop that!

You pig!

He's peeking under the baby's shirt!

You swine.

You don't know anymore what's human.

Come, Ekart. we'll wash ourselves clean in the river!

This man Baal weighs upon me. He's not light enough anymore.

I’m an objective person.

with just a piece of chalk

you could easily map the course of his life on a wall.

Nevertheless...

I don't want to witness

the fits of debility to be expected before his demise.

I’m not a vengeful man.

You know, I’d feel something was really wrong

if he didn't somehow go down in flames.

His mother died yesterday.

He's running around gathering money for the funeral. He'll bring it here.

Then we can pay for the drinks.

The owner here is a decent man.

He'll give us credit to toast a dead mother.

- The wind's gone out of his sails. - You put up with a lot from him.

You can't spit in his face. He buckles.

Does that bother you? .

I tell you, it's a shame. He's a piece of world history.

He's more and more disgusting.

Don't say that.

I love him. I never resent him, because I love him.

- He only does what he must. - Because he's so lazy.

Here he comes. watch it.

Is that you? .

Baal? .

what a miserable dump this place is now!

Nothing's changed here.

But it seems you've gotten more refined.

- Is that you, Sophie? - It's pleasant here. Beer!

I have to drink a lot.

Granted, you still make your way to hell along a path of razors,

but it's as if your knees turn springy and give way gently.

I never had such peculiar ideas

when I still had a good, bourgeois life.

It's only now that I have fits of genius.

I want to be back in the woods at dawn.

The light between the tree trunks is the color of lemons.

I want to go back to the woods.

You have such simplicity of heart.

Bring Johannes a drink.

At night I sometimes dream such fearful things... but only at night.

It's very pleasant here now.

There are still lovely trees by the hundreds

Inviting and shady and high

You can hang yourself from the branches

Or under a tree you can lie

where was it that everything felt like this before? .

Things felt exactly like this once before.

when Johanna Reiher was here.

She's still floating out there. No one ever found her.

Sometimes I get the feeling

she's floating down my throat in all the booze.

A tiny corpse, half rotten, though she was already 17.

Now there are rats and weeds in her green hair.

Sort of suits her, actually.

A bit swollen and pale, filled with stinking, jet-black ooze.

She was always so clean. That's why she drowned and started stinking.

what is flesh? .

It disintegrates like spirit.

Gentlemen, I’m completely drunk.

Two times two is four.

So I’m not drunk.

But I have inklings of a higher world.

Bow down and be humble. Cast off the old Adam.

I haven't hit bottom so long as I still have inklings,

and I can still work out that two times two -

what is "two"? .

what a funny word.

I’m going to sing!

Sick from the sun, eaten raw by the rain

Stolen laurels in his tousled hair

He forgot his youth but not his youthful dreams

He forgot the roof but never the sky up above

That's a good song. Just my style - romantic.

what are you doing here? .

They order a lot of beer. Sometimes cognac too.

Most want beer. Cognac, not as many.

Baal, keep singing.

You who were cast out of heaven and hell

You murderers who've suffered so much

Why didn't you stay in your mothers' wombs

Where it was still and one slept and one was

I can't find my glass.

The table's wobbling.

Turn the lights on!

- Can you see Baal? ,. - No. I don't want to.

The darkness is beautiful.

Are you my friend Ekart? ,.

Yes, but keep singing.

Waltzing through hells and flogged through paradises

Calm and grinning with ever-changing face

He dreams now and then of a small meadow

With blue sky above and nothing more

- Take me along. I hardly eat a thing. - Let there be light!

You're blinding me.

what's the matter? It's nothing ..

This is ridiculous.

You can't be jealous of her!

why shouldn't I have a woman? .

Aren't I your lover? .

- He has a knife! - He's killing him!

For God's sake, let him go!

we're completely free, with no obligations.

we can sleep in the hay, or outdoors, or not at all.

we can take a stroll. We can sing.

Our dreams lie ahead.

we can relax about life...

which is just a better way of saying we can croak.

The police.

Murderers are always looking over their shoulders.

Pale wind in black trees, like Lupu's wet hair.

The moon will rise at 11:00. Then it'll be light enough.

This is a small woods.

I’ll push on to bigger ones.

I can forge ahead now that I'm on my own again.

I have to bear north, on the ribbed side of the leaves.

I have to leave this little matter behind.

Onward...

Beneath gloomy stars in this vale of tears

Baal grazes broad fields and smacks his lips

Once the fields are bare Baal skips with a song

Into the eternal woods to get some sleep

what are you thinking about? .

I’ve always wanted to know what a man thinks about

at the moment of death.

I think I'm listening to the rain.

what? .

You're dying, and you say you're listening to the rain? .

All this is because...

you wouldn't look the situation straight in the eye.

You're on your last legs. Even a child can see that.

who's looking after you? . You have anyone? .

You see? Grit your teeth! . You got any teeth left? .

Sometimes billionaires die

who could have gone on really living it up.

But you don't even have ID.

Try to be more detached about it.

Tell yourself it's just a rat dying.

Don't kick up a fuss. You have no teeth left.

He drank like a fish.

But something about that pale lump makes you think of yourself.

He didn't come into the world like that.

- what time is it? . - 11:00 You leaving? ..

Soon.

Are the roads bad? . - It's raining.

Time to go. Come on.

Everything will be soaked. Another excuse for him to do nothing.

You gonna bite the dust incognito? .

Go on and die. - Good-bye.

See what you can do about the stench.

we work till noon and then we eat.

Couldn't you stay a bit longer? .

Just 30 minutes.

Croak on your own!

Let's go.

- You won't want to die alone either! - Old woman!

Something to remember me by.

Just 20 minutes!

- The sky... - wipe the spit away.

- Where? - On my forehead.

- why are you laughing? . - It tastes good.

You're done for. Good-bye.

Thank you.

Can I do anything? .... No, I have to work.

Jesus! Corpses!

Hey! Come closer.

It was very beautiful.

- what you madman? ,. - Everything.

A connoisseur!

- Hey! - Yeah? .

- You going? . - To work.

- Where? - what do you care? .

- What time is it? - Quarter past 11:00.

He's gone to the devil.

One, two, three, four...

It doesn't help.

Mama...

A man died in the eternal woods as a storm roared all around him

Died like a beast in talons of roots, looking up at the treetops

Where above the woods the storm raged unabated

People stood all around and tried to calm him

"We'll carry you home, friend"

But he kicked and spat and said, "Yeah? Where?"

For he had no home or land

"How many teeth have you left? And how's the rest of you?

Try to die quietly with a bit less fuss

We already ate your horse last night

Why this to-do about going to hell?"

And the woods resounded around him and them

They watched as he clung to a tree and heard him shriek

It horrified them and their clenched fists trembled

For he was a man like them

"You're foul and useless, a mangy beast

Just pus and grime, you ragged heap

You're breathing up our air in your greed, " they said

And he, the festering sore, said...

"I want to live and take in your sun

And ride in the light like you"

Yes, the sheer weight of life's excess

Pressed his rotting carcass into the earth

At dawn he fell down dead in the dark grass

Disgusted, they buried him cold with hate

In the deepest undergrowth

When the dark, earthy womb held the rotting Baal

The sky above was yet vast and still and pale

Young and bare and utterly sublime

Just how Baal loved it in Baal's time

He kicked the bucket!

Dead.

That's really something...

dying like that today.

Hats off!