Królowa aniolów (1999) - full transcript
OXYGEN
VACUUM
AIR
Mom!
RADIATION DANGEROUS
TO EYES AND SKIN
- I want my mom! - Tomek,
stop crying, you hear?
- I want my mom!
- Please stop. - Mom!
- If you're naughty it will
hurt more. - Mom!
PRESCRIPTION SHEET
Be quiet, please go
to sleep this very minute.
I want my mom!
Darling, please try
to fall asleep.
Tomorrow you'll be rested.
Mom will come.
It will be a new day.
Doctor, the boy in no. 14
is very agitated.
Couldn't we give him something?
It's been nearly 3 hours.
I really can't handle him.
Thank you, I won't need you.
- But, doctor, perhaps we'll
have to... - I said I'd manage.
Mom! Mom!
The sun wandered,
Smiling, bright, golden
Over the grove, over the meadow.
It met a teary-eyed orphan:
'You're shining with such joy.'
'With such joy, my dear sun,'
'You send around your smiles'
'While my eyes are filled with tears.'
PATIENTS' BATHROOM
If it holds true in the fairy
tales you were told as a child,
it is all the more true
for the magic of science.
Among and around us,
there are forces
-- let me call them
magical powers --
and they are much more
powerful, more amazing
and their wonders
more beautiful
than the spells of
fairy-tale wizards.
Thousands of people
live and die
without ever caring
to open their eyes
and see the sweet calm
and the marvels of nature.
Thank you, that's all very
interesting, but enough for today.
Are you in pain?
No, today doesn't
hurt at all.
Go now, I want to
pray in peace.
I'll just bring you some
water and then turn off the light.
Are you ill?
Perhaps I'll bring you
something from the kitchen?
Thank you, there's no need.
It's so wonderful
to sit down,
if only for a moment,
and think about nothing.
I feel I will sleep
well tonight.
That's wonderful. You won't
need your sleeping pills.
He wants to kill me.
Murderer, he's a murderer.
He'll be away again
all night.
He's doing it on purpose,
he wants to destroy me.
He does it on purpose,
with that nasty smile
stuck on his face.
I shouldn't have
had a child with him.
His sight will always
make me puke.
It was an accident.
A terrible coincidence.
And besides, I'm old.
Old women don't
give birth
to healthy children.
You shouldn't think
or talk like that.
There's no truth
in what you say.
Not a grain!
I'll tell you a big secret:
this will be a proof,
you will give birth
to a beautiful, wise girl,
you'll call her Ursula.
Till the day you die,
you'll thank God for
giving her to you
and teaching you to love.
- You think so?
- I know so.
Please don't be afraid.
The labor will be easy
and painless.
My mom was 51
when I was born.
And she didn't mind
it a bit.
Because I was
a love child.
She wanted to
call me Rose
but daddy wouldn't
have it.
He wanted to
call me Maria.
Like our Virgin Lady.
You should be
glad, not worried.
- You think so?
- I am sure.
It won't be long.
THE QUEEN OF ANGELS
Jacob!
I had told you
so many times
to let me know when
you're going to be late.
I don't know if you're
aware, but we have
a telephone: 48-85-36.
You needed only a minute.
What am I saying, a minute!
Ten seconds!
Dad, come on!
Sometimes I'm glad
your mother can't see
what you're turning into.
Can you hear me?
Open the door!
Open up this minute!
And turn down this
infernal music!
I give you ten seconds.
Do you hear?
I'm turning off
the breakers.
Jacob...
Please, open the door...
Open the door...
When we lost mother
and Adam
I cried weeks on end,
my eyes were swollen
from crying.
I wanted to die.
You led your life
as usual.
You laughed,
enjoyed candy,
kicked the ball
with friends.
That made it possible
for me to survive.
I thought:
God took away
my wife
and my son, but did not
abandon me altogether since
he spared someone
I have to live for.
And somehow it worked.
Somehow, twenty years
have passed.
But now I think of her
again more and more often.
My son comes home
only to spend the night.
He doesn't want to have
anything to do with me.
He doesn't want to talk
to me, doesn't shower,
smokes a pack of
cigarettes a day,
and keeps telling me
that everything is
all right.
I can't take it anymore.
I can't.
Say something.
Talk to me.
Talk to me.
Say something.
Cold.
I'm cold.
Nothing but worries.
It would be best to sleep
and never to wake up again.
Why are you just sitting there?
Do something.
You call this a bed!
It's a mere shake-down.
A plain old shake-down.
This idiot Cecilia starched
everything so much
I'm sure to get bedsores.
Does she want me
to rot alive?
When I think
that Reverend Waclaw
will visit us today
for the last time,
I feel like crying.
He's the only honorable man.
The only helpful soul
I have left.
We must talk to him.
About you.
Maybe he will
think of something.
- A way out...
- Mother!
I don't understand.
What are you referring to?
What do you want to
talk to him about?
What are you going
to turn into a problem?
Oh, excuse me,
it was you who
created a problem.
It was you!
It was you who
got involved with
that wicked man
who didn't love you
even for ten minutes.
It was you who ran
after him frenzied
to hear him talk
to you about love.
He slithered like a snake,
grinned with his pointy
pearly teeth, and so what?!
- What did that give you?
- Mother, please...
- Do we really have to do
this today? - Be quiet!
Not another word!
The only thing you can do
is to clasp your hands
and pray to God to help
you go on.
Woman!
You are going to bear
and raise a child!
Do you even realize
what that means?
To raise a child on your own,
with no husband, no money!
You better listen to me
and get down on your knees....
Right now, right here,
no need to be shy about prayer.
And ask for God's help
in surviving all of this.
Mother... please...
They will be here any minute.
You don't want this young man
to take to his heels before
he can say 'God bless...'?
He will run anyway,
as soon as he finds out
what goes on in this house.
May God bless you...
Wacek, dear,
I already thought you'd
forgotten all about me.
That I would have to die without...
Please forgive me, my dear,
we were detained.
It's somewhat embarrassing.
I thought that I,
God's faithful servant,
have absolutely
no possessions.
But when it came
to packing,
I collected fifteen
large trunks.
Books,
of course...
Nothing but books.
Ladies,
please allow me to introduce
Rev. Jacob Kruk
[lit. Crow]
who took over
my parish
two days ago.
I would like to add
straight away
that Reverend Jacob
is exceptionally
honorable
and consequently
also very modest.
Maria, bring Reverend some tea.
My dear Wacek,
our guest is undoubtedly
a nice young man
but you forgot to
mention he couldn't speak.
Ladies, please
accept my apologies
but I
am not in the
best form today,
that is,
to be honest,
I feel quite poorly.
Upset stomach.
I'm afraid I'm
going to
have to leave you
for a moment.
I'll show you to the
bathroom, Reverend.
Please follow me.
I tried so hard, so hard,
I cried every night
praying that you come.
I knew you wouldn't fail me,
I saw you in my dreams,
four times, angel.
my angel,
my guardian angel.
I give myself to you,
all of me, I'm giving
you my love.
Today I'm touching your body
and I will never be
who I was.
Thanks be to God.
The younger lady
did not sleep a wink.
all night...
She walked around the house,
- like a ghost.
- Precisely.
And she didn't even
touch her meal.
I've no idea who
I am cooking for.
They don't care.
The old lady
won't eat anything,
and it looks like the
younger one won't either.
Waste of time and effort.
- Precisely...
- I don't mean to forebode...
but if this continues
who can tell where
the unborn will end up.
The lady is thin
as a stick,
bags under her eyes,
her nails are white...
We have even
pickled beets for her...
and some fresh ground
pork loin would be good,
one tablespoon three times a day.
I wouldn't touch raw
meet, either.
Give her what she likes.
What she likes, what she likes!
Do I look like dumb?
Like if it's my first
day cooking here!
Because of that child,
she doesn't like anything.
But I think that all this
is not because of the child,
but because of the father.
She got an urge,
so now God is punishing her.
Shut up you idiot!
Watch the roux,
it's getting burned!
You watch out,
someone will
smack you in your big mouth!
But on our street,
there used to live
a certain Mrs Zawistowska.
A beautiful woman.
And she lived with a man
twenty years her junior!
But what happened afterwards
is too scary to repeat.
Well? Go on, you idiot.
You're doing us
no favors.
A child.
He got her pregnant.
At the beginning,
she would show off her bump,
she had lots of
little clothes made,
but then, all of a sudden,
no belly!
And there is no child.
But everything came out anyhow.
Because God gave
people a sign.
It was in February.
Snow,
terrible cold, but
in front of their house
a magnolia tree flowered...
...red.
They say God punished her
because her lover was
twenty years younger, and
they never married.
They say that the child
was born dead.
Didn't survive even a minute
in this world.
Didn't even whimper.
It only opened its eyes,
one little tear rolled
down its cheek,
and sighed
its last breath...
So that child
-- a boy, it was a boy --
had two heads.
One head was normal,
but with only one eye
in the middle
of the forehead.
But the other head...
the other
was a pig's head.
A pig's head?
You're a pig's head!
I told you to
watch the roux!
Get out of here!
I said get out,
or I'll call the police.
They should take you
straight to bedlam.
There must be one
opened at night somewhere.
Let them check
you right in.
Stuff you with pills.
Pills.
Or plug you into electricity.
Electricity.
You were supposed
to visit him.
You were supposed
to take care of him.
Maybe play with him
sometimes.
You never had the time.
I understand.
You didn't feel like it.
I understand.
I'm trying
and I understand.
It's only too bad
you never imagined
that a cat,
every cat must
eat and drink
or it dies.
Too bad.
Too bad.
I don't want you.
I don't love you.
I don't love you.
I hate you, you hear?!
I hope you
starve to death
like this cat.
My keys.
My keys! Give me
back my keys!
And now get lost;
I'm calling the police.
I love you.
That's wonderful!
Like a fairy tale!
When I was young,
one could only dream
about such flowers!
Please sit down.
Reverend, forgive me
for saying it, but it's a sin.
Such wonders...
for an old hag
who's standing
over her grave...
I really don't know
how I can apologize
for my behavior
on my last visit.
It's just that I've been suffering
from particularly painful
upset stomach.
Heavy cramps.
And my nerves.
New duties, new people...
Not another word!
When I first saw you
I could feel
that you are a wonderful
servant of God, Reverend.
Please believe me,
I'm never wrong in these matters.
One or two more weeks,
and you will
feel here quite at home.
Rev. Waclaw
recommended Dr. Kawecki
whose insight
and learning you
are familiar with.
He said this was
a grave matter,
to do with nerves...
My dear boy, please
don't pay attention to doctors.
If I listened to that
idiot Kawecki
I would have been long
gone from this world.
Together, let's seek
remedy in God.
He won't fail us.
Marysia, what's
wrong with you,
I must have rang six times!
I'm very sorry,
I'm not feeling too well.
Perhaps you should see
Dr. Kawecki...
But no, ask Cecilia
to give you those herbal drops
he prescribed, they're excellent.
They relieve all ailments,
literally everything.
Dear God, I almost forgot.
Relieve this poor
suffering man
and put these flowers
in water.
Beautiful flowers.
Beautiful.
I'll ask Cecilia
to crush the tips
of the stems and scald
them with hot water.
They'll last longer.
I thought about it
day and night.
I thought...
I thought about the fact
that so many people...
Love.
Love. Strife.
I wanted to love...
I wanted...
to tell her
about myself.
I wanted her to love me.
I did not mean
to hurt her.
She couldn't understand
me. She couldn't...
relate to me, empathize...
My heart
is...
so heavy and so...
so big...
Twenty-one kilos.
It beats slow.
Very slow.
You're feverish,
you should go to bed.
You know you can't park here?
Yes,
I do.
You know what?
Go home. Take
some pills,
get some slep,
calm down,
take off work
for a few days.
Doctors have the right
to get sick, too, don't they?
There's something
I must tell you.
Something very important.
Very.
Something
no one else must know.
Priest.
The moon will be
so bright tonight.
Silver-like.
Willow-green.
Willow-green moons
are the most terrible.
But I'm no longer
afraid of the moon.
I remember as a little boy
I lay in bed at night
and thought
that moonlight
sat on top of me,
crushing me.
It smelled so strange,
like a corpse.
Then I held my breath
in terror.
Absolutely.
I might have been
breathless for hours.
I might have been
close to death.
This was when
my mother
had died.
But a guardian angel
saved my life.
He swooped in,
placed his hand
over my face,
and I was able
to breathe again.
Let me go!!
Let me go!!
Get away...
I couldn't deny myself
one last painful pleasure
of placing a kiss on
the dead lips of
the one who had taken
possession of my heart.
O miracle!
Her slight breath
mingled with mine
and Clairemonte's lips
responded to the touch of mine.
She opened her
arms and
wrapped them
around my neck
in ecstasy.
Romuald, is that you?
She asked in a voice
trembling and faint
like a harp's last quiver.
Oh, Romuald, I have
waited for you so long...
that I died...
I love you.
I give you the life
your kiss has reawakened.
Adieu, Romuald, adieu!
A sudden gust of
wind opened a window
and burst into the room.
The last white rose petal
fluttered on its stem
as a bird's wing
and flew out
the open window
carrying with it
Clairemonte's
soul.
My God!
My God,
Zofia will kill me!
Dear Miss Maria,
I'm not accustomed
to corresponding with ladies.
I trust you understand
that my vocation
seldom gives me
an occasion for it.
However, your behavior
during my first,
and undoubtedly not
the last visit
at Elzbieta Sklodowska's house
compelled me to react
in such an abrupt
and decisive manner.
I know that your faith
is strong and profound.
I have therefore decided
that I would pray
for your suffering soul
to regain its peace.
I will ask the Almighty
to chase away the demons
which -- I am absolutely
certain of it --
have found a dark
refuge in your heart.
I believe that Jesus Christ
will be your cure and salvation.
As His faithful servant,
I forgive you for what had happened.
Having overcome my own weakness,
I ask that you desist
from trying to have
any sort of contact with me,
in any form whatsoever.
This is a request of
utmost importance.
Please find your strength
and your peace of mind
in the Lord.
Father Jacob Kruk
You pig!
Where have you brought me?
My God! What are you
going to do to me?
You idiot!
You idiot! You sadist!
You've seen
too many movies!
You're sick!
You're sick!
God, why did I ever
have anything to
do with you?
Help...!
Help! Help!
Help!
Help! Anyone! Help!
Help me!
My God... My God...
Jacob...
Jacob...?
Please, Jacob...
Everything will be
all right, you'll see...
We can talk about
whatever you want.
In peace. Really...
I can understand anything.
I will understand everything.
Jacob, I only beg you to...
let me out of here...
Don't touch me.
You musn't touch me.
He keeps looking at her.
He can't stop thinking
how good she is,
how beautiful.
How big
her eyes are.
Her blue eyes.
His heart is
beating very fast.
Very fast.
He wants to marry her,
have children with her.
A boy and a girl.
He buys her
flowers and treats.
He takes her for
walks by the river.
Sometimes...
he gently touches
her hand.
Her parents adore him.
Her father,
who
who loves her
more than life,
will give her away
without any second thoughts.
Because he has sun
in his eyes,
and love.
So powerful is love.
What did you do that for?
I had to.
What did you do that for?
To tell you.
Tell me what?
Something very important.
When will this end?
Soon.
Very soon.
I'll let you go tomorrow.
What are you going
to do to me?
I want you
to look and listen.
I want you to try.
Then you will
hear and see.
And you will love again.
You?
Yes.
I won't ever love you again.
You will.
I don't know,
I just don't know
what to do.
I've tried a hundred times
to bring her to reason.
In vain.
My daughter,
my own daughter,
has no God in her heart
any more.
Even if she renounced God
I believe that
God never abandoned her
and will show her the way.
She wanders at night
like a ghost,
listens, watches out
for the signs of his return.
Will he ever return?
And if he does, when?
Perhaps tomorrow,
or the day after,
next month, next year?
He'll beg,
look at you
with these
blue eyes of his,
and in five minutes
she'll be in his arms.
And he'll hang around,
have a drink,
lick his wounds like a cat,
and along the way harm
another innocent creature,
quite unaware, because
in two weeks he'll disappear,
no one knows where
or for how long,
and that's supposed to be love?
Because she always
talks to me about love.
Dear Reverend,
I beg you,
I would prostrate
myself if I could,
please talk to her,
and bring her to her senses!
That's such a pity
that Wacek had to leave.
I promise I'll do
everything I can.
If she would
calm down a bit.
And stop thinking
about the child.
Because she has
bad thoughts about it.
She doesn't want it.
She doesn't know
how to love it.
Because of that,
her belly is
hard as a rock.
And just to think
that any minute
she could be in labor.
I don't know if God
will have mercy on us.
He will or he won't,
but rather he won't!
How dare you, mother?
Who gave you the right
to talk like this
about my life and my love?
About the man
whom I love,
you hear, mother,
whom I love!
What can you know
about love, mother?
Have you loved anyone
in your life?
Have you ever been loved?
Always busy with
this God of yours,
with church gossip,
and these morbid afternoons!
How dare you?
Mother...
Have you ever kissed anyone?
Embraced anyone?
Unconditionally?
Wholeheartedly?
Have you ever given
anyone anything?
Some trifle?
Just so, without
any occasion?
Have you ever
loved a man?
Ever swooned in ecstasy
in his arms?
Mother!
If you have,
then who,
because it couldn't
have been father.
Leave.
Please leave this room at once.
Will anyone have
mercy on me?
Will anyone have mercy
on me? Oh God!
My God, my God...
Help me...
God come to our aid...
God help us...
Omniscient God
omnipresent God...
Well....
where is that wonderful
God of yours?
Before whom you salivate
and prostrate yourselves?
What sort of
love can you give Him
since I see you are
so miserable,
tormented,
incapable
of the slightest
human gesture.
You're even afraid
of each other's touch.
Love...
Do you have
any idea
what that means?
Love...
I do.
I know what love is.
8 March 1979.
Jan Buczek Elementary School,
Women's Day assembly.
Navy-blue first-communion suit.
White shirt of
synthetic fabric.
I'm drenched in sweat.
Everything itches.
Women's Day,
Women's Day,
May everyone know,
That today we celebrate
Girls...
I'm singing a song,
pretty and clear.
Then a poem.
Pretty and clear.
The prettiest.
My brother doesn't sing.
He doesn't like it.
End of performance.
Applause.
A woman
runs up to me.
I can see her.
I can see how
beautiful she is.
She takes me in her arms,
and embraces me tight.
And tells me that
I recite beautifully.
And that she loves me
best in the world.
People.
A sea of people.
She among them.
Gently waving her hand.
And then she vanishes
from my sight.
Every time.
Who is it?
It's me.
My dear, please let me in.
Just for a moment.
I swear, for just
a moment.
You always say
only a moment,
and sit here
till dawn.
I swear, on Almighty God.
Marysia, please...
My feet are like
two blocks of ice.
So tell me.
- But only a little.
- Tell me about how he came.
- You know... - I've told
you so many times.
About something like that,
one could tell endless stories.
One last time, please...
I came back from the
church with my parents.
The evening was
warm, beautiful.
My mom and I
sat on the sofa.
No, mom sat on the sofa,
and I on the floor at her feet.
And only my head
rested in her lap.
And my dad,
daddy sat in the armchair.
He was smoking
a cigar,
and reading a book:
"Magic in the realm of science."
And then we talked
about our plans,
about our upcoming
trip to Africa.
To Africa...
And then night came
and I went to bed.
And mom and dad
sat by the bedside
and were looking at me
and holding hands.
They had to sit like that,
or else I wouldn't sleep.
I was afraid to
be alone at night.
I loved looking
at them sitting
next to me
and holding hands.
And we sat like that...
quietly...
ever so quietly...
I don't even know how long.
Then suddenly
my bedroom door
opened ajar
and everything was
bathed in brightness.
Oh my...
And once our eyes
grew accustomed
to the luminosity
we saw him standing
in the doorway.
He entered slowly,
very slowly into the room.
He stopped by my bed.
I was scared at first,
but then I was no
longer at all afraid.
My heart was brimming
with delight.
But lately there
was a miracle.
Mother Mary of God, help us.
God sent him again.
I saw him again.
I saw his face.
He had no wings
but I recognized him.
It was him.
I know.
Jesus, who?
Who is he?
- I can't tell you.
- You must.
I beg you, please tell me, or
or I won't be able to fall asleep.
I can't, I musn't.
So why did you start?
There must be no
God in your heart.
Jacob.
Reverend Jacob.
He is my angel.
And he loves me.
And I love him.
With a great,
great love.
You'll see.
He'll take me
away from here.
Girl, have you
lost your mind?
Good cheesecake.
I'm telling you,
this is the best of cakes.
Only it takes
a lot of work.
My back is sore
from all this churning.
I don't like cheesecake.
Why you look
so wasted today?
I have a headache.
I got up too early,
and hardly slept a wink.
What did you do this time, Cecilia?
Nothing, I just lay there.
I tossed and turned.
Tall tales!
If you were in bed
you would have been asleep.
When one goes to bed tired,
one falls asleep before
one can say Amen.
I stayed up with Marysia a bit.
See! You should have
said so in the first place.
You're joined to her at the hip.
You gobble up her
fantastic stories like candy.
They're not fantastic but normal.
Pretty.
Very pretty.
About her home,
her parents,
how they loved each other...
Don't laugh so hard,
or the cheese will
curdle in your stomach.
You just wait,
you little wench.
You'll get slapped
with a wet rag
before you can blink.
They loved each other,
loved each other...
till they were red in the face.
In all that loving,
they lost their hearts.
I don't know why,
but poor Marysia
was raised
in an orphanage,
at the Nazarene Sisters'.
Since she was a baby.
She never saw
her father or mother.
They abandoned her.
Must have been
out of all that love.
And you're going
to tell me fairy tales.
I've known this
girl for many years.
She was 14 when she came here,
with a single dress and
holes in her shoes.
Pale like parchment.
And as soon as she
had a decent meal,
she threw it up.
What, Zofia?
What are you
saying, Zofia?
I'm telling you
what I know.
And ask anyone you like.
A sham.
She's just a sham.
And then I had
that dream.
I dreamed it
many nights.
Very many.
I remember exactly
although I was just a child.
How is it possible?
Small children don't
remember their dreams.
It was night.
We all slept
in the same room:
my parents, Adam...
and me.
Everyone slept.
I could hear their calm
regular breathing, but
I couldn't sleep.
I could feel that
besides ourselves
there was someone
else in the room.
It was a woman.
She wore a long black robe.
I was scared to death.
I knew that this woman
waited for everyone
to fall asleep in
order to kidnap me
and take me very
very far away.
I knew I had to
fight back somehow,
give some sort of a sign,
cry, shout...
somehow wake up
my mother but
I was paralyzed with fear.
And the woman
would take me in her arms
and carry me off
into darkness.
Into utter darkness.
My mother had
beautiful long hair.
Sometimes...
Very rarely, she
would let me comb it.
For five minutes,
maybe ten minutes...
Only then,
when she sat in
silence, her eyes
closed, and I
was allowed to
comb her hair,
did I ever feel safe.
That I belonged to her.
It was August.
23 August.
Holidays by the lake.
The lake.
I was standing
on the shore.
I could see them.
Change in weather.
I felt I was
dying with them.
I was dying.
I was dead.
I musn't be touched.
I musn't.
We would go
there every day.
I thought she
would extend her arm
and pull me within.
I waited for
it to happen.
She didn't take me with her.
I was born under
the black sun.
No...
I wasn't born.
I was excreted.
RUSTLING TREES
PUT YOU TO SLEEP.
Spewed.
AND LEFT MY HEART
IN SORROW.
She didn't love me.
I was a mistake.
I am a mistake.
I'm a waste of time.
Nobody loves me.
I shouldn't have been born.
Please don't touch me.
I musn't be touched.
You are not a mistake.
I love you.
Complaining, sobbing,
moaning,
with sorrow in my heart
I often came to you, my God,
to pray to you in
the time of need
for your help,
salvation and solace.
Today, my heart filled
with joy and comfort,
I come to thank you
as my Savior,
yes, my Lord.
You heard my pleas,
you uplifted me
from on high...
Be quiet!
Run to the kitchen,
get the water boiling,
and you fetch clean
sheets and towels.
Run!
Ania...
Leave me alone...
Leave me alone...
- Leave me be...
- Ania...
It's just me,
don't be afraid.
It's just my head...
I have a terrible
headache.
But I'll take my pills
and it will pass.
I want to help you.
My darling...
It's not your head,
it's the child
who wants out
into the world.
No, there is no child,
they took the child.
I gave the child away,
they've taken it.
Reverend, help me
take her to bed.
Hurry up now...
And now leave us.
Pray to God that
this may end well.
Quiet, quiet,
breathe, breathe.
Someone come to me!
Somebody come
and tell me, I beg you!
What's happening?!
Pains. She has pains.
The child is being born.
Our Father who art in heaven...
Go to them.
Go and promise
you'll come back.
It's a girl.
Beautiful, healthy girl.
I'm going to
call her Ursula.
Beautiful little Ursula.
The sun wandered,
Smiling, bright, golden,
Over the grove, over the meadow,
It met a teary-eyed orphan...
Everyone should be
able to look back
at one's memories,
and say that he
was loved by someone.
Loved entirely.
To know she was loved
for being who she was.
Otherwise
one's life loses meaning.
I feel
that one should never be born.
It makes no difference
how such a person
lives his/her life,
what they suffer...
They will always be able
to return to those memories
and feel loved.
They will be able
to love themselves
and won't break down.
If your memories
cannot give you strength
you will break down.
Stop! Thank you!
That was great.
Now everyone...
As a choir.
Kotlarczyk
would be pleased.
Professor would
be delighted.
With the support
or with life?
Subtitles: aileverte for KG,
September 2011
VACUUM
AIR
Mom!
RADIATION DANGEROUS
TO EYES AND SKIN
- I want my mom! - Tomek,
stop crying, you hear?
- I want my mom!
- Please stop. - Mom!
- If you're naughty it will
hurt more. - Mom!
PRESCRIPTION SHEET
Be quiet, please go
to sleep this very minute.
I want my mom!
Darling, please try
to fall asleep.
Tomorrow you'll be rested.
Mom will come.
It will be a new day.
Doctor, the boy in no. 14
is very agitated.
Couldn't we give him something?
It's been nearly 3 hours.
I really can't handle him.
Thank you, I won't need you.
- But, doctor, perhaps we'll
have to... - I said I'd manage.
Mom! Mom!
The sun wandered,
Smiling, bright, golden
Over the grove, over the meadow.
It met a teary-eyed orphan:
'You're shining with such joy.'
'With such joy, my dear sun,'
'You send around your smiles'
'While my eyes are filled with tears.'
PATIENTS' BATHROOM
If it holds true in the fairy
tales you were told as a child,
it is all the more true
for the magic of science.
Among and around us,
there are forces
-- let me call them
magical powers --
and they are much more
powerful, more amazing
and their wonders
more beautiful
than the spells of
fairy-tale wizards.
Thousands of people
live and die
without ever caring
to open their eyes
and see the sweet calm
and the marvels of nature.
Thank you, that's all very
interesting, but enough for today.
Are you in pain?
No, today doesn't
hurt at all.
Go now, I want to
pray in peace.
I'll just bring you some
water and then turn off the light.
Are you ill?
Perhaps I'll bring you
something from the kitchen?
Thank you, there's no need.
It's so wonderful
to sit down,
if only for a moment,
and think about nothing.
I feel I will sleep
well tonight.
That's wonderful. You won't
need your sleeping pills.
He wants to kill me.
Murderer, he's a murderer.
He'll be away again
all night.
He's doing it on purpose,
he wants to destroy me.
He does it on purpose,
with that nasty smile
stuck on his face.
I shouldn't have
had a child with him.
His sight will always
make me puke.
It was an accident.
A terrible coincidence.
And besides, I'm old.
Old women don't
give birth
to healthy children.
You shouldn't think
or talk like that.
There's no truth
in what you say.
Not a grain!
I'll tell you a big secret:
this will be a proof,
you will give birth
to a beautiful, wise girl,
you'll call her Ursula.
Till the day you die,
you'll thank God for
giving her to you
and teaching you to love.
- You think so?
- I know so.
Please don't be afraid.
The labor will be easy
and painless.
My mom was 51
when I was born.
And she didn't mind
it a bit.
Because I was
a love child.
She wanted to
call me Rose
but daddy wouldn't
have it.
He wanted to
call me Maria.
Like our Virgin Lady.
You should be
glad, not worried.
- You think so?
- I am sure.
It won't be long.
THE QUEEN OF ANGELS
Jacob!
I had told you
so many times
to let me know when
you're going to be late.
I don't know if you're
aware, but we have
a telephone: 48-85-36.
You needed only a minute.
What am I saying, a minute!
Ten seconds!
Dad, come on!
Sometimes I'm glad
your mother can't see
what you're turning into.
Can you hear me?
Open the door!
Open up this minute!
And turn down this
infernal music!
I give you ten seconds.
Do you hear?
I'm turning off
the breakers.
Jacob...
Please, open the door...
Open the door...
When we lost mother
and Adam
I cried weeks on end,
my eyes were swollen
from crying.
I wanted to die.
You led your life
as usual.
You laughed,
enjoyed candy,
kicked the ball
with friends.
That made it possible
for me to survive.
I thought:
God took away
my wife
and my son, but did not
abandon me altogether since
he spared someone
I have to live for.
And somehow it worked.
Somehow, twenty years
have passed.
But now I think of her
again more and more often.
My son comes home
only to spend the night.
He doesn't want to have
anything to do with me.
He doesn't want to talk
to me, doesn't shower,
smokes a pack of
cigarettes a day,
and keeps telling me
that everything is
all right.
I can't take it anymore.
I can't.
Say something.
Talk to me.
Talk to me.
Say something.
Cold.
I'm cold.
Nothing but worries.
It would be best to sleep
and never to wake up again.
Why are you just sitting there?
Do something.
You call this a bed!
It's a mere shake-down.
A plain old shake-down.
This idiot Cecilia starched
everything so much
I'm sure to get bedsores.
Does she want me
to rot alive?
When I think
that Reverend Waclaw
will visit us today
for the last time,
I feel like crying.
He's the only honorable man.
The only helpful soul
I have left.
We must talk to him.
About you.
Maybe he will
think of something.
- A way out...
- Mother!
I don't understand.
What are you referring to?
What do you want to
talk to him about?
What are you going
to turn into a problem?
Oh, excuse me,
it was you who
created a problem.
It was you!
It was you who
got involved with
that wicked man
who didn't love you
even for ten minutes.
It was you who ran
after him frenzied
to hear him talk
to you about love.
He slithered like a snake,
grinned with his pointy
pearly teeth, and so what?!
- What did that give you?
- Mother, please...
- Do we really have to do
this today? - Be quiet!
Not another word!
The only thing you can do
is to clasp your hands
and pray to God to help
you go on.
Woman!
You are going to bear
and raise a child!
Do you even realize
what that means?
To raise a child on your own,
with no husband, no money!
You better listen to me
and get down on your knees....
Right now, right here,
no need to be shy about prayer.
And ask for God's help
in surviving all of this.
Mother... please...
They will be here any minute.
You don't want this young man
to take to his heels before
he can say 'God bless...'?
He will run anyway,
as soon as he finds out
what goes on in this house.
May God bless you...
Wacek, dear,
I already thought you'd
forgotten all about me.
That I would have to die without...
Please forgive me, my dear,
we were detained.
It's somewhat embarrassing.
I thought that I,
God's faithful servant,
have absolutely
no possessions.
But when it came
to packing,
I collected fifteen
large trunks.
Books,
of course...
Nothing but books.
Ladies,
please allow me to introduce
Rev. Jacob Kruk
[lit. Crow]
who took over
my parish
two days ago.
I would like to add
straight away
that Reverend Jacob
is exceptionally
honorable
and consequently
also very modest.
Maria, bring Reverend some tea.
My dear Wacek,
our guest is undoubtedly
a nice young man
but you forgot to
mention he couldn't speak.
Ladies, please
accept my apologies
but I
am not in the
best form today,
that is,
to be honest,
I feel quite poorly.
Upset stomach.
I'm afraid I'm
going to
have to leave you
for a moment.
I'll show you to the
bathroom, Reverend.
Please follow me.
I tried so hard, so hard,
I cried every night
praying that you come.
I knew you wouldn't fail me,
I saw you in my dreams,
four times, angel.
my angel,
my guardian angel.
I give myself to you,
all of me, I'm giving
you my love.
Today I'm touching your body
and I will never be
who I was.
Thanks be to God.
The younger lady
did not sleep a wink.
all night...
She walked around the house,
- like a ghost.
- Precisely.
And she didn't even
touch her meal.
I've no idea who
I am cooking for.
They don't care.
The old lady
won't eat anything,
and it looks like the
younger one won't either.
Waste of time and effort.
- Precisely...
- I don't mean to forebode...
but if this continues
who can tell where
the unborn will end up.
The lady is thin
as a stick,
bags under her eyes,
her nails are white...
We have even
pickled beets for her...
and some fresh ground
pork loin would be good,
one tablespoon three times a day.
I wouldn't touch raw
meet, either.
Give her what she likes.
What she likes, what she likes!
Do I look like dumb?
Like if it's my first
day cooking here!
Because of that child,
she doesn't like anything.
But I think that all this
is not because of the child,
but because of the father.
She got an urge,
so now God is punishing her.
Shut up you idiot!
Watch the roux,
it's getting burned!
You watch out,
someone will
smack you in your big mouth!
But on our street,
there used to live
a certain Mrs Zawistowska.
A beautiful woman.
And she lived with a man
twenty years her junior!
But what happened afterwards
is too scary to repeat.
Well? Go on, you idiot.
You're doing us
no favors.
A child.
He got her pregnant.
At the beginning,
she would show off her bump,
she had lots of
little clothes made,
but then, all of a sudden,
no belly!
And there is no child.
But everything came out anyhow.
Because God gave
people a sign.
It was in February.
Snow,
terrible cold, but
in front of their house
a magnolia tree flowered...
...red.
They say God punished her
because her lover was
twenty years younger, and
they never married.
They say that the child
was born dead.
Didn't survive even a minute
in this world.
Didn't even whimper.
It only opened its eyes,
one little tear rolled
down its cheek,
and sighed
its last breath...
So that child
-- a boy, it was a boy --
had two heads.
One head was normal,
but with only one eye
in the middle
of the forehead.
But the other head...
the other
was a pig's head.
A pig's head?
You're a pig's head!
I told you to
watch the roux!
Get out of here!
I said get out,
or I'll call the police.
They should take you
straight to bedlam.
There must be one
opened at night somewhere.
Let them check
you right in.
Stuff you with pills.
Pills.
Or plug you into electricity.
Electricity.
You were supposed
to visit him.
You were supposed
to take care of him.
Maybe play with him
sometimes.
You never had the time.
I understand.
You didn't feel like it.
I understand.
I'm trying
and I understand.
It's only too bad
you never imagined
that a cat,
every cat must
eat and drink
or it dies.
Too bad.
Too bad.
I don't want you.
I don't love you.
I don't love you.
I hate you, you hear?!
I hope you
starve to death
like this cat.
My keys.
My keys! Give me
back my keys!
And now get lost;
I'm calling the police.
I love you.
That's wonderful!
Like a fairy tale!
When I was young,
one could only dream
about such flowers!
Please sit down.
Reverend, forgive me
for saying it, but it's a sin.
Such wonders...
for an old hag
who's standing
over her grave...
I really don't know
how I can apologize
for my behavior
on my last visit.
It's just that I've been suffering
from particularly painful
upset stomach.
Heavy cramps.
And my nerves.
New duties, new people...
Not another word!
When I first saw you
I could feel
that you are a wonderful
servant of God, Reverend.
Please believe me,
I'm never wrong in these matters.
One or two more weeks,
and you will
feel here quite at home.
Rev. Waclaw
recommended Dr. Kawecki
whose insight
and learning you
are familiar with.
He said this was
a grave matter,
to do with nerves...
My dear boy, please
don't pay attention to doctors.
If I listened to that
idiot Kawecki
I would have been long
gone from this world.
Together, let's seek
remedy in God.
He won't fail us.
Marysia, what's
wrong with you,
I must have rang six times!
I'm very sorry,
I'm not feeling too well.
Perhaps you should see
Dr. Kawecki...
But no, ask Cecilia
to give you those herbal drops
he prescribed, they're excellent.
They relieve all ailments,
literally everything.
Dear God, I almost forgot.
Relieve this poor
suffering man
and put these flowers
in water.
Beautiful flowers.
Beautiful.
I'll ask Cecilia
to crush the tips
of the stems and scald
them with hot water.
They'll last longer.
I thought about it
day and night.
I thought...
I thought about the fact
that so many people...
Love.
Love. Strife.
I wanted to love...
I wanted...
to tell her
about myself.
I wanted her to love me.
I did not mean
to hurt her.
She couldn't understand
me. She couldn't...
relate to me, empathize...
My heart
is...
so heavy and so...
so big...
Twenty-one kilos.
It beats slow.
Very slow.
You're feverish,
you should go to bed.
You know you can't park here?
Yes,
I do.
You know what?
Go home. Take
some pills,
get some slep,
calm down,
take off work
for a few days.
Doctors have the right
to get sick, too, don't they?
There's something
I must tell you.
Something very important.
Very.
Something
no one else must know.
Priest.
The moon will be
so bright tonight.
Silver-like.
Willow-green.
Willow-green moons
are the most terrible.
But I'm no longer
afraid of the moon.
I remember as a little boy
I lay in bed at night
and thought
that moonlight
sat on top of me,
crushing me.
It smelled so strange,
like a corpse.
Then I held my breath
in terror.
Absolutely.
I might have been
breathless for hours.
I might have been
close to death.
This was when
my mother
had died.
But a guardian angel
saved my life.
He swooped in,
placed his hand
over my face,
and I was able
to breathe again.
Let me go!!
Let me go!!
Get away...
I couldn't deny myself
one last painful pleasure
of placing a kiss on
the dead lips of
the one who had taken
possession of my heart.
O miracle!
Her slight breath
mingled with mine
and Clairemonte's lips
responded to the touch of mine.
She opened her
arms and
wrapped them
around my neck
in ecstasy.
Romuald, is that you?
She asked in a voice
trembling and faint
like a harp's last quiver.
Oh, Romuald, I have
waited for you so long...
that I died...
I love you.
I give you the life
your kiss has reawakened.
Adieu, Romuald, adieu!
A sudden gust of
wind opened a window
and burst into the room.
The last white rose petal
fluttered on its stem
as a bird's wing
and flew out
the open window
carrying with it
Clairemonte's
soul.
My God!
My God,
Zofia will kill me!
Dear Miss Maria,
I'm not accustomed
to corresponding with ladies.
I trust you understand
that my vocation
seldom gives me
an occasion for it.
However, your behavior
during my first,
and undoubtedly not
the last visit
at Elzbieta Sklodowska's house
compelled me to react
in such an abrupt
and decisive manner.
I know that your faith
is strong and profound.
I have therefore decided
that I would pray
for your suffering soul
to regain its peace.
I will ask the Almighty
to chase away the demons
which -- I am absolutely
certain of it --
have found a dark
refuge in your heart.
I believe that Jesus Christ
will be your cure and salvation.
As His faithful servant,
I forgive you for what had happened.
Having overcome my own weakness,
I ask that you desist
from trying to have
any sort of contact with me,
in any form whatsoever.
This is a request of
utmost importance.
Please find your strength
and your peace of mind
in the Lord.
Father Jacob Kruk
You pig!
Where have you brought me?
My God! What are you
going to do to me?
You idiot!
You idiot! You sadist!
You've seen
too many movies!
You're sick!
You're sick!
God, why did I ever
have anything to
do with you?
Help...!
Help! Help!
Help!
Help! Anyone! Help!
Help me!
My God... My God...
Jacob...
Jacob...?
Please, Jacob...
Everything will be
all right, you'll see...
We can talk about
whatever you want.
In peace. Really...
I can understand anything.
I will understand everything.
Jacob, I only beg you to...
let me out of here...
Don't touch me.
You musn't touch me.
He keeps looking at her.
He can't stop thinking
how good she is,
how beautiful.
How big
her eyes are.
Her blue eyes.
His heart is
beating very fast.
Very fast.
He wants to marry her,
have children with her.
A boy and a girl.
He buys her
flowers and treats.
He takes her for
walks by the river.
Sometimes...
he gently touches
her hand.
Her parents adore him.
Her father,
who
who loves her
more than life,
will give her away
without any second thoughts.
Because he has sun
in his eyes,
and love.
So powerful is love.
What did you do that for?
I had to.
What did you do that for?
To tell you.
Tell me what?
Something very important.
When will this end?
Soon.
Very soon.
I'll let you go tomorrow.
What are you going
to do to me?
I want you
to look and listen.
I want you to try.
Then you will
hear and see.
And you will love again.
You?
Yes.
I won't ever love you again.
You will.
I don't know,
I just don't know
what to do.
I've tried a hundred times
to bring her to reason.
In vain.
My daughter,
my own daughter,
has no God in her heart
any more.
Even if she renounced God
I believe that
God never abandoned her
and will show her the way.
She wanders at night
like a ghost,
listens, watches out
for the signs of his return.
Will he ever return?
And if he does, when?
Perhaps tomorrow,
or the day after,
next month, next year?
He'll beg,
look at you
with these
blue eyes of his,
and in five minutes
she'll be in his arms.
And he'll hang around,
have a drink,
lick his wounds like a cat,
and along the way harm
another innocent creature,
quite unaware, because
in two weeks he'll disappear,
no one knows where
or for how long,
and that's supposed to be love?
Because she always
talks to me about love.
Dear Reverend,
I beg you,
I would prostrate
myself if I could,
please talk to her,
and bring her to her senses!
That's such a pity
that Wacek had to leave.
I promise I'll do
everything I can.
If she would
calm down a bit.
And stop thinking
about the child.
Because she has
bad thoughts about it.
She doesn't want it.
She doesn't know
how to love it.
Because of that,
her belly is
hard as a rock.
And just to think
that any minute
she could be in labor.
I don't know if God
will have mercy on us.
He will or he won't,
but rather he won't!
How dare you, mother?
Who gave you the right
to talk like this
about my life and my love?
About the man
whom I love,
you hear, mother,
whom I love!
What can you know
about love, mother?
Have you loved anyone
in your life?
Have you ever been loved?
Always busy with
this God of yours,
with church gossip,
and these morbid afternoons!
How dare you?
Mother...
Have you ever kissed anyone?
Embraced anyone?
Unconditionally?
Wholeheartedly?
Have you ever given
anyone anything?
Some trifle?
Just so, without
any occasion?
Have you ever
loved a man?
Ever swooned in ecstasy
in his arms?
Mother!
If you have,
then who,
because it couldn't
have been father.
Leave.
Please leave this room at once.
Will anyone have
mercy on me?
Will anyone have mercy
on me? Oh God!
My God, my God...
Help me...
God come to our aid...
God help us...
Omniscient God
omnipresent God...
Well....
where is that wonderful
God of yours?
Before whom you salivate
and prostrate yourselves?
What sort of
love can you give Him
since I see you are
so miserable,
tormented,
incapable
of the slightest
human gesture.
You're even afraid
of each other's touch.
Love...
Do you have
any idea
what that means?
Love...
I do.
I know what love is.
8 March 1979.
Jan Buczek Elementary School,
Women's Day assembly.
Navy-blue first-communion suit.
White shirt of
synthetic fabric.
I'm drenched in sweat.
Everything itches.
Women's Day,
Women's Day,
May everyone know,
That today we celebrate
Girls...
I'm singing a song,
pretty and clear.
Then a poem.
Pretty and clear.
The prettiest.
My brother doesn't sing.
He doesn't like it.
End of performance.
Applause.
A woman
runs up to me.
I can see her.
I can see how
beautiful she is.
She takes me in her arms,
and embraces me tight.
And tells me that
I recite beautifully.
And that she loves me
best in the world.
People.
A sea of people.
She among them.
Gently waving her hand.
And then she vanishes
from my sight.
Every time.
Who is it?
It's me.
My dear, please let me in.
Just for a moment.
I swear, for just
a moment.
You always say
only a moment,
and sit here
till dawn.
I swear, on Almighty God.
Marysia, please...
My feet are like
two blocks of ice.
So tell me.
- But only a little.
- Tell me about how he came.
- You know... - I've told
you so many times.
About something like that,
one could tell endless stories.
One last time, please...
I came back from the
church with my parents.
The evening was
warm, beautiful.
My mom and I
sat on the sofa.
No, mom sat on the sofa,
and I on the floor at her feet.
And only my head
rested in her lap.
And my dad,
daddy sat in the armchair.
He was smoking
a cigar,
and reading a book:
"Magic in the realm of science."
And then we talked
about our plans,
about our upcoming
trip to Africa.
To Africa...
And then night came
and I went to bed.
And mom and dad
sat by the bedside
and were looking at me
and holding hands.
They had to sit like that,
or else I wouldn't sleep.
I was afraid to
be alone at night.
I loved looking
at them sitting
next to me
and holding hands.
And we sat like that...
quietly...
ever so quietly...
I don't even know how long.
Then suddenly
my bedroom door
opened ajar
and everything was
bathed in brightness.
Oh my...
And once our eyes
grew accustomed
to the luminosity
we saw him standing
in the doorway.
He entered slowly,
very slowly into the room.
He stopped by my bed.
I was scared at first,
but then I was no
longer at all afraid.
My heart was brimming
with delight.
But lately there
was a miracle.
Mother Mary of God, help us.
God sent him again.
I saw him again.
I saw his face.
He had no wings
but I recognized him.
It was him.
I know.
Jesus, who?
Who is he?
- I can't tell you.
- You must.
I beg you, please tell me, or
or I won't be able to fall asleep.
I can't, I musn't.
So why did you start?
There must be no
God in your heart.
Jacob.
Reverend Jacob.
He is my angel.
And he loves me.
And I love him.
With a great,
great love.
You'll see.
He'll take me
away from here.
Girl, have you
lost your mind?
Good cheesecake.
I'm telling you,
this is the best of cakes.
Only it takes
a lot of work.
My back is sore
from all this churning.
I don't like cheesecake.
Why you look
so wasted today?
I have a headache.
I got up too early,
and hardly slept a wink.
What did you do this time, Cecilia?
Nothing, I just lay there.
I tossed and turned.
Tall tales!
If you were in bed
you would have been asleep.
When one goes to bed tired,
one falls asleep before
one can say Amen.
I stayed up with Marysia a bit.
See! You should have
said so in the first place.
You're joined to her at the hip.
You gobble up her
fantastic stories like candy.
They're not fantastic but normal.
Pretty.
Very pretty.
About her home,
her parents,
how they loved each other...
Don't laugh so hard,
or the cheese will
curdle in your stomach.
You just wait,
you little wench.
You'll get slapped
with a wet rag
before you can blink.
They loved each other,
loved each other...
till they were red in the face.
In all that loving,
they lost their hearts.
I don't know why,
but poor Marysia
was raised
in an orphanage,
at the Nazarene Sisters'.
Since she was a baby.
She never saw
her father or mother.
They abandoned her.
Must have been
out of all that love.
And you're going
to tell me fairy tales.
I've known this
girl for many years.
She was 14 when she came here,
with a single dress and
holes in her shoes.
Pale like parchment.
And as soon as she
had a decent meal,
she threw it up.
What, Zofia?
What are you
saying, Zofia?
I'm telling you
what I know.
And ask anyone you like.
A sham.
She's just a sham.
And then I had
that dream.
I dreamed it
many nights.
Very many.
I remember exactly
although I was just a child.
How is it possible?
Small children don't
remember their dreams.
It was night.
We all slept
in the same room:
my parents, Adam...
and me.
Everyone slept.
I could hear their calm
regular breathing, but
I couldn't sleep.
I could feel that
besides ourselves
there was someone
else in the room.
It was a woman.
She wore a long black robe.
I was scared to death.
I knew that this woman
waited for everyone
to fall asleep in
order to kidnap me
and take me very
very far away.
I knew I had to
fight back somehow,
give some sort of a sign,
cry, shout...
somehow wake up
my mother but
I was paralyzed with fear.
And the woman
would take me in her arms
and carry me off
into darkness.
Into utter darkness.
My mother had
beautiful long hair.
Sometimes...
Very rarely, she
would let me comb it.
For five minutes,
maybe ten minutes...
Only then,
when she sat in
silence, her eyes
closed, and I
was allowed to
comb her hair,
did I ever feel safe.
That I belonged to her.
It was August.
23 August.
Holidays by the lake.
The lake.
I was standing
on the shore.
I could see them.
Change in weather.
I felt I was
dying with them.
I was dying.
I was dead.
I musn't be touched.
I musn't.
We would go
there every day.
I thought she
would extend her arm
and pull me within.
I waited for
it to happen.
She didn't take me with her.
I was born under
the black sun.
No...
I wasn't born.
I was excreted.
RUSTLING TREES
PUT YOU TO SLEEP.
Spewed.
AND LEFT MY HEART
IN SORROW.
She didn't love me.
I was a mistake.
I am a mistake.
I'm a waste of time.
Nobody loves me.
I shouldn't have been born.
Please don't touch me.
I musn't be touched.
You are not a mistake.
I love you.
Complaining, sobbing,
moaning,
with sorrow in my heart
I often came to you, my God,
to pray to you in
the time of need
for your help,
salvation and solace.
Today, my heart filled
with joy and comfort,
I come to thank you
as my Savior,
yes, my Lord.
You heard my pleas,
you uplifted me
from on high...
Be quiet!
Run to the kitchen,
get the water boiling,
and you fetch clean
sheets and towels.
Run!
Ania...
Leave me alone...
Leave me alone...
- Leave me be...
- Ania...
It's just me,
don't be afraid.
It's just my head...
I have a terrible
headache.
But I'll take my pills
and it will pass.
I want to help you.
My darling...
It's not your head,
it's the child
who wants out
into the world.
No, there is no child,
they took the child.
I gave the child away,
they've taken it.
Reverend, help me
take her to bed.
Hurry up now...
And now leave us.
Pray to God that
this may end well.
Quiet, quiet,
breathe, breathe.
Someone come to me!
Somebody come
and tell me, I beg you!
What's happening?!
Pains. She has pains.
The child is being born.
Our Father who art in heaven...
Go to them.
Go and promise
you'll come back.
It's a girl.
Beautiful, healthy girl.
I'm going to
call her Ursula.
Beautiful little Ursula.
The sun wandered,
Smiling, bright, golden,
Over the grove, over the meadow,
It met a teary-eyed orphan...
Everyone should be
able to look back
at one's memories,
and say that he
was loved by someone.
Loved entirely.
To know she was loved
for being who she was.
Otherwise
one's life loses meaning.
I feel
that one should never be born.
It makes no difference
how such a person
lives his/her life,
what they suffer...
They will always be able
to return to those memories
and feel loved.
They will be able
to love themselves
and won't break down.
If your memories
cannot give you strength
you will break down.
Stop! Thank you!
That was great.
Now everyone...
As a choir.
Kotlarczyk
would be pleased.
Professor would
be delighted.
With the support
or with life?
Subtitles: aileverte for KG,
September 2011