Yerma (1978) - full transcript

Rockabye my baby,

for a cradle we will make.

A little cabin in the country

where we can go too.

Juan?

Do you hear me?

Juan?

I?m on my way.

It?s time.

Have the oxen gone out?

Yes.

They?ve already gone.

Alright.

I'm going.

Will you drink a glass of milk?

What for?

You work hard.

And you?re not very strong.

When men stay lean,

they?re strong, like steel.

Not you, though.

When we married

you were different.

Now you?re white-faced,

as if the sun never shines

on you.

I?d like to see you

go to the river,

and have yourself a good swim,

or climb on the roof when

the rain falls in the house.

We?ve been married for two years,

and you're sadder everyday,

thinner,

as if you were aging backwards.

Have you done?

Don?t get sore.

If I were ill I?d like you

to take care of me.

"My wife?s ill:

I?ll slaughter this lamb and

make her a good meat stew.

My wife?s sick:

I?ll take this chicken broth

to ease her chest.

I?ll take this sheepskin

to protect her feet from the snow."

That?s how I am.

That?s why I take care of you.

And I?m grateful for it.

But you don?t let me.

There?s nothing wrong with me.

It?s just your imagination.

I work hard.

Every year I grow a little older.

Every year,

you and I?

will go on like this?

Year after year?

Sure. And peacefully too.

Work's going well.

We?ve no children to worry about.

- We've no children?

Juan?

Do you think I don't love you?

Yes, you love me.

I know girls who?ve trembled?

and wept before they climbed

into bed with their husbands.

Did I cry the first time

I slept with you?

No.

Remember how I sang,

as I turned back the fine linen?

I even said,

"How these sheets

smell of apples."

You did.

My mother wept, you know,

because she saw

I wasn?t sorry to leave her.

And it was true.

No one was ever happier

at being married.

And yet?

Enough. I've too much

to do to listen now.

No!

Don?t tell me what they say.

It's impossible.

I feel it's impossible.

The force of the rain

on a stone softens it,

and weeds grow?

which people say are

fit for nothing.

"Weeds are fit for nothing."

Yet I still see

their yellow flowers.

We must hope.

Yes.

And love each other.

If you need anything,

tell me and I?ll get it.

You know

I don?t like you going out.

I never go out.

You?re better off here.

Yes!

The streets are for idlers.

Where do you come from, my love?

My child?

"From heights that are icy cold."

What do you need, my love?

My child?

"The warm feel of your dress."

What do you wish,

my child, so far away?

"The white hills of your breast."

You're a lamb.

Your shepherd calls you?

like a moonbeam to play with.

Let branches stir in the light

and fountains leap in the air.

A dog barks in the yard?

My child,

I can only say yes.

I'm tired of waiting for nothing.

In this womb,

which brings me much grief,

I've prepared your first cradle.

My child,

when will you come?

"When you smell of jasmine."

Let branches stir in the light

and fountains leap in the air.

A breeze sings in the trees.

A breeze sings in the trees.

Where have you come from?

- The store.

From the store, so early?

If it were up to me, I'd have waited

by the door until it opened.

Come inside.

Can you guess what I bought?

Eh? coffee,

sugar,

bread.

No. I bought lace,

three lengths of cloth, ribbons

and colored wool

to make tassels.

My husband had money?

and he gave it to me.

You?re going to make a blouse.

No.

it?s for?

Don't you know?

What?

Because it?s come.

In only five months?

- Yes.

Have you done the math?

- Yes.

And how do you feel?

I don?t know.

A weight.

A weight!

Listen,

when it came?

you weren?t expecting it, eh?

No, I wasn?t.

You could have been singing?

Eh?

I?m singing, you see?

And?

listen?

Don't ask me about it.

I?

Have you ever held

a live bird in your hands?

Yes.

Well?

It?s the same?

but inside you,

inside your blood.

How beautiful.

I?m stunned.

I don?t know a thing.

About what?

- About what I should do.

I?ll ask my mother.

Why?

She?s old.

She?s forgotten about all that.

Don?t walk too much,

and when you breathe,

breathe very softly,

as if you had a rose

between your teeth.

You know,

they say that later?

he kicks you with his legs.

And that makes you love him more,

Then you can say,

"My son."

But I feel a bit embarrassed.

What did your husband say?

Nothing.

He loves you deeply?

He doesn?t say,

but he clasps me?

and his eyelids?

quiver like green leaves.

Did he know that you??

Yes.

And how did he know?

I don?t know.

But on our wedding night,

he kept saying it to me?

very softly?

with his mouth against my cheek,

so much so that

my child now seems

a dove of light

he set free in my ear.

What joy.

But you would know more than me.

What use is it to me?

Ah, right.

That's true.

Why that should be?

Of all the brides of your year,

you're the only one? - Yes.

Of course there?s still time.

Helena took three years,

and others in

my mother?s day even longer,

but?

five years and twenty days,

like me, is too long.

I don?t think it's right

to wear away my life here.

Sometimes at night,

I go out in the yard barefoot

to walk about.

I don?t know why.

If I go on like this,

I?ll end badly.

No.

What are you saying?

Listen here,

you talk like you're old.

For heaven's sake.

With these things,

you can never say.

One of my mother?s sisters had

one after fourteen years.

Really?

You should've seen

how beautiful the boy was.

What was he like?

He bellowed like a little bull,

with the energy of a thousand

cicadas all buzzing at once,

and he peed on us,

and tugged our hair,

and when he was four months old,

he scratched all our faces.

But it doesn?t hurt.

Bah!

They say with children?

you suffer a lot.

That's not true.

That's what the whiners say.

The weak ones.

Why do they have them?

Having a child is no?

a bouquet of roses.

We must suffer

if they?re to grow.

I think we must give them

half our blood.

But that?s good.

It's right.

Every woman has enough blood

for four or five children,

and when she doesn?t have them?

it turns to poison,

as it shall me.

I don't know how I feel.

I?ve heard that

they're always afraid at first.

Come now, take heart.

We?ll see.

You know?

- Yes?

You sew so well.

Give that to me.

I?ll cut you out two little dresses.

And what's this?

For diapers.

Good.

Well then, until later.

Don?t run through the street.

There are rocks.

Goodbye.

Come again soon!

Hello, Victor.

And Juan?

In the fields.

Will you help me?

What are you sewing?

Diapers.

Bravo.

I?m going to trim them with lace.

Yerma,

if it?s a girl,

name her after you.

What?

I?m happy for you.

No.

They're not for me.

They?re for Maria?s baby.

Here.

Let?s see if her example

encourages you.

This house needs a child.

Ah, yes.

It needs one.

Tell your husband

to think about work less.

He wants to make money.

And he will.

But when?

he dies,

who will he leave it to?

I?m going out to my sheep.

Tell Juan to get the two

he bought from me.

And about the other thing,

tell him to try harder.

Yes.

Try harder.

My child,

I can only say yes.

I'm tired of waiting for nothing.

In this womb,

which brings me much grief,

I've prepared your first cradle.

My child,

when will you come?

"When you smell of jasmine."

Let branches stir in the light

and fountains leap in the air.

The wind sings in the trees.

A wind in the trees?

sings.

Good day!

Good day, my pretty.

Where are you going?

Just taking lunch to my husband

working in the olive grove.

Have you been married long?

- Three years.

Have you any children?

No.

You will.

Do you think so?

Why not?

I?ve just taken my husband

his lunch too.

He?s old.

He?s still working.

I?ve nine children,

but not one girl.

So I must cross from

one side to the other.

You live over the river?

- Yes.

By the mills.

Who are your family?

I?m the daughter of

Enrique, the shepherd.

Ah, Enrique, the shepherd!

I knew him.

Good people.

Rise,

sweat,

eat bread

and die.

No playing about, nothing.

And fairs?

were for the others.

Taciturn people.

I might have married

an uncle of yours.

But then, I?ve been a woman

with her skirts in the wind, eh?

I?ve sped like an arrow to fun:

to dances,

to sweet things.

Many times at dawn,

I?ve run to the door?

thinking I heard music of

the guitar ebbing and flowing,

but it was only the breeze.

Only the wind.

You?ll laugh at me.

I?ve had two husbands,

fourteen children,

six of them dead,

and yet I?m not sad, no.

I?d like to go on

living a long time.

A fig-tree, how long it lasts.

A house, how long it lasts.

It's only we women?

who turn to dust.

Listen,

I?d like to ask you something.

I already know what you want.

There?s no answer to such things.

Why not?

It?s given me confidence

to hear you talk.

I?ve wanted to talk to

an older woman for some time.

Because I want to know.

Yes, I want to.

Tell me?

What?

You know what.

Why am I barren?

Tell me what to do

and I?ll do it

Whatever it may be.

I know nothing.

I laid down, opened my mouth,

and began to sing.

And children flowed out

like water.

Nobody could say that

you don't have a fine body.

You walk out and at the end

of the street, a stallion neighs.

Oh, yes!

Leave me alone, girl.

My lips are sealed.

I know many things?

but I don?t want to tell you.

Why not?

With my husband,

I talk of nothing else.

Listen?

- Yes?

Does your husband please you?

- In what way?

Do you love him?

Do you yearn to be with him?

I don?t know.

Do you tremble

when he comes near you?

Do you feel as if you?re dreaming

when he brings his lips close?

No.

I?ve never felt like that.

Never?

Not even when you were dancing?

Perhaps just once.

With Victor.

Go on.

He held me by the waist?

and I couldn?t say a word.

I couldn?t speak.

Another time, with Victor again,

when I was just a girl,

he took me in his arms

to cross a ditch?

and I started shaking so much

my teeth chattered.

But it was because

I was always a bit shy.

And with your husband?

It was different with him.

My father gave me to him,

and I accepted him.

Happily, eh? That?s the truth.

From the first day I was married,

I thought about?

children.

And I could see myself

in his eyes.

Yes, but?

it was myself made very small,

well-behaved,

as if I were my own daughter.

Quite the opposite with me.

Perhaps that?s why

you?ve no child as yet.

Hey!

Men must pleasure us, girl.

They need to let down our hair?

and have us drink

from their mouths.

Such is life.

For you,

but not for me.

I spend a lot of time thinking,

and I?m sure that what I think about

will be realised in my child.

I gave myself to

my husband for my child.

I go on giving to see

if it will come,

but?

never for pleasure.

And the result is

that you?re empty.

No.

Not empty.

Because I?m filled

with self-loathing.

Listen,

is it my fault?

Should one seek in a man

just the man and nothing more?

Then?

what is one to think when he leaves you

in bed staring at the ceiling,

and turns over?

and goes to sleep?

Should I think of him?

or of what might come

shining from my womb?

Eh? I don?t know.

But you must tell if you know.

How naive you are.

You're a sweet creature.

Listen?

- Yes.

Don?t make me talk.

I don?t want to talk.

This is family business.

And I don't abuse anyone's honor.

You?ll find out, sooner or later.

But you should be less naive.

Girls brought up in the country,

like me,

find all doors closed to them.

Everything is

only muttered phrases,

gestures,

because they say you?re not

supposed to know about these things.

And you too.

You go on and

act the wise woman,

but even you won't tell,

even to one dying of thirst.

I could with a calmer person.

But not with you.

I have experience.

And I know what I'm doing.

Then, God help me.

Not God.

I?ve never liked God.

When will you realize

he doesn?t exist?

Only men can help you.

Why do you say that?

Why?

Though there should be a God,

however feeble,

to strike with lightning those men?

- What are you saying?

I understand you not.

Well, I do understand.

Don?t be unhappy.

Hope and wait.

You?re still very young.

What would you have me say?

People are everywhere!

Work's in season,

men are in the olive groves,

and we must bring them food.

Only old folks are at home.

- Are you going back to the village?

Yes, I'm going that way.

I'm in a hurry.

The baby's asleep and

there?s no one at home.

Then hurry then!

Children shouldn?t be left alone!

You?re right. I?m going now.

I keep forgetting about things.

Hurry!

Go now.

What is in their heads?

If you had four or five,

you wouldn?t be like that.

Why not?

Even if I had forty.

Anyway, we who have none,

live more peacefully.

I don't.

I do.

What a bother they are.

Yet my mother insists on

giving me herbs so I?ll bear,

and in October we?re going to pray

to the saint who makes them come.

For those who really

yearn for them.

Let my mother get pregnant.

Not me.

Why marry then?

Because they made me marry.

They make everyone marry.

If it goes on like this,

there'll only be kids left.

In reality, you?re married

long before you go to church.

But the old ones fret

about these things.

I hate cooking and cleaning.

And now I spend the whole day

doing what I hate. What for?

My man?

Why must he be?

my husband?

We did exactly the same things

when we were engaged.

The old ones are real fools.

Hush, don?t say such things.

You?ll be calling me crazy too.

"Crazy! Crazy!"

I tell you the one thing

I?ve learned in life:

Everybody?s stuck at home

doing what they don?t want.

It?s so much better outside.

I go?

I go to the stream.

I climb up and ring the bells.

I drink all the anisette I like.

You really are crazy.

Sure, I know I'm crazy.

Does your mother?

live at the top of the village?

The witch!

In the last house?

- Yes.

What?s her name?

- Dolores.

Why do you ask?

Oh, nothing.

You were asking for something.

I don't know. Just saying.

That?s your business.

Look,

I?m going to take

my husband his lunch.

I can't believe it.

What a pity I can?t say

my sweetheart.

Eh?

Well, the crazy one is going.

Bye.

Bye.

I climbed a green pine tree?

to see if I could see her.

And among the cart's dust,

I could see?

only that she was gone.

Come! Shout! Shout!

The red carnation has faded.

Let's get to shooting.

Down on Muros Street was killed?

a dove.

With my own hands I?ll cut?

the flowers for her wreath.

Come! Shout! Shout!

The red carnation has faded.

Let's get to shooting.

Where are you going, beauty?

Was that you singing?

It was.

You sing so well.

I've never heard you sing.

No?

What a lovely voice you have.

I'm in a good mood.

That's true.

But you, on the other hand,

are sad.

I'm always sad.

I've reason to be.

Your husband?

is even sadder than you.

By nature.

He has a reserved character.

He always did.

Did you bring him lunch?

Yes.

What?s that?

Where?

There on your cheek.

Like a burn.

It?s nothing.

I thought it was.

Must be the sun.

Perhaps.

Did you hear that?

What?

Can?t you hear crying?

No.

I thought I heard a child crying.

Really?

Very near.

Crying as if it were drowning.

There are always

children round here.

They come to steal fruit.

- No!

It was the sound

of a little child.

I heard nothing.

It was my imagination.

You're still here?

I was talking.

Hi!

You should be at home.

I stopped for a bit.

See? All the olives are crushed.

To do what?

Listening to the sparrows sing.

That?s fine.

But it makes people talk.

What do you mean?

I only say it

because of other people.

Other people be damned!

Don?t swear.

That?s ugly in a woman.

If only I were a woman.

End this talk and go home.

Shall I expect you?

- No.

Oh, my God!

I'll be out all night.

There?s not much water.

It?s mine till sunrise.

And I need to guard it

from thieves.

Go home.

And go to sleep.

Yes.

I shall sleep.

We're here in the water,

in the stream's fresh water.

Your smile like the jasmine,

the jasmine.

Such gossip here!

I don't like gossip.

Where's the harm?

Who wants to save their honor,

knows what must be done.

I planted a sprig.

I watched it grow.

Who wants a good name

shouldn't say yes.

That's right!

- But nothing is known.

It?s certain her husband?s brought

both his sisters to live with them.

Those old maids?

Yes, the old maids.

They used to watch over the church

and now they watch the sister-in-law.

I couldn?t bear them.

- Why not?

Because they're creepy!

They're like those plants

that grow around the graves.

So they've here?

- Yes.

Since yesterday. Her husband?s

back to the fields again.

So what happened then?

She spent last night sitting on

her doorstep, despite the cold.

But why?

That's how the barren are.

Instead of staying home

and cooking and making jam,

they climb on the roof or

go with feet naked in the river.

What do you know?

She?s no children but it?s not her fault.

Those who want children

have them.

It's the spoiled, lazy, and soft

who can't endure a wrinkled belly.

And they dab on

face-powder and rouge.

And pin a spray of oleander on.

And go looking for anyone

but their husband!

That?s the truth.

- Come, have you seen her with anyone?

Not us, but others have!

Always, others!

- Twice.

They say.

- And what were they up to?

Talking.

- Talking?s no sin.

In this world just a glance

can mean something,

my mother used to say.

A woman gazing at roses

is not the same

as a woman gazing

at a man's thighs.

And she gazes at them.

There's an alarm for you!

We're here in the water?

Sing it louder.

- Don't tell tales.

And her husband?

He acts as if he?s deaf,

happy, like a beast in the sun.

It would all be fine

if they had a child.

All this is about people who

aren't happy with themselves.

Hour by hour,

that house gets more hellish!

She and the sisters-in-law,

never saying a word,

washing the walls all day,

polishing the copper,

and oiling the floors!

The more the house gleams,

the more it is hell inside!

It?s all his fault.

When you don't have kids,

take care of your wife.

It?s her fault.

Her tongue's like flint.

What's eating you?

Does your mouth have the mange?

Who said you could run

your big mouth to me?

Knock it off!

I?d like to pierce all evil tongues

with a needle.

And I the breasts

of all hypocrites!

Be quiet!

Now all the flocks

are coming out.

How nice the smell of sheep is.

- Do you like it?

You like sheep!

Of course.

Just as I like the smell of red mud

that the river carries in winter.

She's crazy.

The flocks are mingling together.

- It?s a woolen flood.

Passing over everything.

If the green wheat had eyes

it'd tremble to see them coming.

They?re all going,

not one flock?s missing.

Of course!

Oh, yes one is missing.

Whose?

Victor?s!

My girl.

Hi, Bruno!

Hi!

Sing the verses of our friend Garcia.

Then wine for everybody.

Girls!

Let's sing Mr Garcia's verses!

We're here in the water,

in the stream's fresh water.

Your smile like the jasmine,

the jasmine.

I want to be inside

the pure snowflake,

of the smiling light jasmine.

Your shirt of snow appears

like a silver boat

and the wind enchants

along the banks.

And in the spring's waters,

I wash my baby's clothes,

because the font makes them,

purer than water,

than pure water.

From the mountain

my husband comes.

He brings a gift of a rose

to me his bride,

and I open my arms,

and give him three.

From the meadow,

my husband comes.

He brings me a flower

to me his love,

and I give him three.

With the breeze,

my husband returns with a lilac

to me his beauty

and I give him three.

He is mine, my musician,

I am his mandola.

We're like two violets

on a sheet.

The violets are in flower,

your flower united to mine.

Oh harvester, when it is hot,

the heat of the summer.

If you want to fly without wings

above my nest,

a beautiful nest of love,

oh my shepherd,

from the cold winter.

And long live the belly-button,

tummy, cheeks, hair, boobs

of every woman.

And we must with fire burn

to begin to sing, dream

and dance with you

and sing again.

We're here in the water,

in the stream's fresh water.

Your smile like the jasmine,

the jasmine.

You say she just went out?

She must be at the spring.

But you know I don't like

her going out alone.

The very bread I eat

is made from my sweat.

Yesterday was a hard day.

While I was pruning the apples.

And it was dark.

And it got me to thinking,

"Why do I kill myself with working

if I can't even eat one apple?"

I'm fed up.

She's not coming.

But one of you

should've went with her.

That's why you're here eating at

my table and drinking my wine!

My life's in the fields.

But my honor is here!

And my honor is yours!

- Don't take on so.

Set the table.

Have you come from the spring?

To fetch fresh water

to the table.

How was it in the fields?

Yesterday, I pruned the trees.

You can rest a little now.

I must look after the flocks.

This is the work an owner must do,

as you know.

I know.

There's no need

for you to repeat it.

Every man must lead his life.

And every woman hers.

It's not that I'm asking for you,

you can rest easy.

I've everything I need here.

Your sisters look after me.

We have fresh water,

ricotta,

roast lamb, and just like your sheep,

mountains and fresh air.

You can rest easy.

To rest easy,

one must not have worries.

You don't have any.

- Yes, I do.

Let's not start.

You know what I think.

"Sheep in the stable,

the wife at home."

You go out too much.

I've always said so.

Ah, right.

"Wife at home."

When that home is not a tomb.

When the chairs break from use?

and the sheets become worn out.

But not here.

At night, when I go to bed,

the beds are like

as if they were new.

Still gleaming,

as if they had just

been brought from the city.

You'll agree that I'm right.

And that we must be careful.

Why?

I respect you.

I do everything you want.

And what I suffer,

I keep to myself.

Inside.

And every day it's worse.

Never mind.

I?ll bear my cross the best I can

but don?t ask of anything of me.

If I could turn

into an old woman?

with a mouth like

a withered flower,

I might be able to smile.

And live more easily with you.

But the way it is now?

leave me be with my thorns.

You speak in a way

I don't understand.

I don't deprive you of anything.

I send you to buy the things

you want in the nearby towns.

I have my faults.

But I want to live in peace,

in quiet.

I want to sleep outside at night

knowing you're sleeping.

But I don't sleep.

I can't sleep.

Why? Do you need anything?

Tell me.

Yes!

I do need.

Always the same song.

It's been five years.

I don't even think about it.

I'm not you.

Men have other things:

the animals,

the trees,

conversation.

We women only have children.

And raising them.

Why don't you take

your brother's child?

I'd be fine with it.

I don't want other

people's children.

Just the thought of holding them

makes me shudder.

With this obsession,

you look mad to me.

Your reasoning is wrong.

And you keep on beating

your head against the wall.

It's a shameful wall,

if it's a wall.

Because it should be

a basket of flowers, fresh water.

Near you, one feels discomfort,

dissatisfaction, dissatisfaction.

You must resign yourself

to it in the end.

But I didn't come inside

these four walls to be resigned.

When a cloth is around my face

so my mouth is shut,

and when my arms are crossed,

in a coffin,

that's when I'll be resigned.

Meanwhile,

what do you want to do?

I want to drink.

But there is no pitcher.

And no water.

I want to climb the mountain.

And I don't have feet.

I want to sew my dress.

I have no thread.

That's because

you're not a real woman.

And you ruin weak men like me.

I don't know how I am.

Let me go about and

unburden myself.

I've never done you any wrong.

I don't want people

pointing at me.

I want the door to be shut

and everybody at home.

Talking to people is no sin.

But it might look so.

I can't stand those things.

When they want to start

a conversation with you,

keep your mouth shut

and remember you're married.

Married?

And that a family has its honor.

An honor is a weight

both must carry.

What a desert of pain.

The joy that finds

the door barred.

I ask for a child

in order to suffer.

The air offers me?

only a dahlia

from the slumbering moon.

Oh, two springs of lukewarm milk

inside my body,

stamping horses which shake

the branches of my suffering.

Beneath my dress?

blind breasts of pain,

like doves without sight?

and without whiteness.

Oh, captive blood which my pain

seethes like wasps in my brain.

You must come.

My love.

My child.

Because the sea gives salt,

the earth fruit,

and our wombs?

treasures tender children,

as the clouds?

are filled with sweet rain.

Maria!

Why do you always

rush by my door?

I see how you are

when I pass with the children.

You always cry.

- It's true.

Give him to me.

It makes me sad

to see you envious.

It's not envy I feel.

It's my poverty.

You shouldn't feel so.

How can I not?

When I see you and the others

filled with flowers inside,

and in the midst of such beauty

I am useless.

I don't want to repeat to you

what I always say.

Country women when they don't

have children are useless.

Like a handful of thorns.

Yes, take him back.

With you, he's more happy.

I don't have a mother's hands.

Why do you say that?

Because I can't

take this anymore.

I can't take having these hands.

And not being able to use them

for what they're made for.

Because I've been offended?

Offended and humiliated

to my very soul,

seeing the crops ripen,

the fountains giving water,

the ewes bearing

hundreds of lambs,

and the dogs.

It seems as if the whole

countryside was rising up?

to show me

its tender sleeping young,

while I here,

instead of my child's mouth,

feel two hammer-blows.

Among so many others,

you could be happy

if you listened to me.

Women who have children can't

understand those who don't.

You can't understand.

You've become ignorant.

Like those swimming in cool water

can't understand thirst.

I don't want to keep repeating

what I always tell you.

Forgive me.

Every day that passes,

there's more desire, less hope.

You do wrong.

I'll end up convincing myself?

that I am my child.

I now go down to feed the oxen.

I've never did that because?

it wasn't women's work.

And when I get back to my roof,

in the dark,

my footsteps sound like a man's.

Everyone has their own ways.

Just think everything that

follows me loves me.

You see how.

- And your sisters-in-law?

May I die without the sacraments

if I speak one word to them.

And your husband?

All three are against me.

What do they think?

It's all nonsense.

Like all those whose

consciences aren't clean.

They think I like another.

And they don't realize,

that even if I did,

in my father's house,

honesty was above all.

They stand there?

like stones.

But they don't know

that if I wanted,

I could become a flood of water

and sweep them all away.

Even so, I think

your husband loves you still.

My husband gives me

bread and home.

What terrible things you endure.

So terrible.

Is he awake?

In a bit, you'll hear him sing.

Do you know he has your eyes?

Do you see?

Exactly your eyes.

Go away.

Go away, go away, go away?

Please, go away?

Here, have some soup.

Let me!

- Yes.

A song tribute

to the fighters of the Asturias

with music from the town hall.

What is it?

- I was waiting for her to go.

My mother's waiting for you.

Tell her I'll be right there.

- You'll go? Really?

Of course.

- As you wish.

Victor!

Is Juan here?

Yes.

- Goodbye then.

I'll bring you the shirt.

- Alright, fine.

Come in.

Sit down.

No, I'll stand.

Juan!

I came to say goodbye.

You're going away?

- Yes.

You're going away

with your brothers?

My father has decided so.

Ah, yes.

He's very old.

Yes. Very old.

You do well to change towns.

The country's the same everywhere.

- No.

I would go so far away.

But it's all the same.

The same old sheep

making the same old wool.

It's like that for the men.

But it's different for women.

I've never heard a man

eating an apple say,

"How good this apple is."

You get right to the point

without worrying over trifles.

But I've reached the point where

I even hate the water from the wells.

Perhaps.

Victor?

Yes?

Why do you go?

Everybody loves you here.

I behaved like a man.

To everybody.

Oh, yes!

When you were a boy, you carried

me in your arms. Remember?

Remember?

Then you never know

how things will end.

Everything changes.

- No.

Some things never do.

Things hidden in walls that won't change

because nobody finds them.

It's true.

But if they came out suddenly

and began to cry out?

they would fill the world.

No.

Nothing would be changed.

The torrent in its path,

the moon in the sky,

the flocks in the stable,

man?

man behind his plough.

What a shame.

The animals.

Are you off?

I must be at

the valley before dawn.

Do I owe you anything?

No.

You've paid me well.

I bought his animals.

Now, they're yours.

I didn't know.

Yet, it's true.

Your husband likes

to see his farm full.

The fruit always goes to those

who work to get it.

We won't have any room

for all their offspring.

The earth is wide.

I'll go with you

as far as the brook.

I wish happiness for this house.

Happiness to all.

May God hear you.

Goodbye.

Did you say something?

I said "good luck."

Thank you.

Would you please be so kind?

Alright.

You were brave.

There's no power on earth

as great as desire.

The cemetery is so dark.

I've been

to the cemetery many times.

To appear, to pray?

with the women

who wanted children.

They were all overcome

with a horrible fright.

But not you.

I came here to have results.

I hope you aren't a fraud.

Of course not.

May my mouth be filled with ants

like the dead if I ever lied.

Last time,

I said prayers with

one unfortunate

who was sterile

for much longer than you.

She got such a belly!

Sweet!

But so well,

she gave birth to two children

down by the river.

She didn't even

have time to run home.

She brought them to me

in a shawl to be cleaned.

And she managed

to walk from the river?

Of course!

With her skirt and clogs

drenched in blood.

But her face was

radiant like the sun.

And nothing bad happened?

What could happen?

God is here.

Yes, God is God.

Nothing could happen.

She could take the children

and bathe them in clean water.

No, I'd say a little hot.

And don't beasts lick them?

I could never be disgusted

with my child.

I believe that those

who just had children?

are like shining inside.

Children sleep for hours

on top of them,

listening to the flow

of warm milk within their breasts.

For them to suckle.

For them to play with,

until they don't want anymore.

Then they purse

their little mouths,

"No?"

"A little more, greedy?"

"A little more?"

Their faces are bathed

with drops of white milk.

You'll have a child.

I guarantee it!

I will because I want one.

If not?

If not, I won't understand

this world anymore.

Sometimes, when I feel?

that never?

never?

It comes over me like a flare

and everything seems useless.

Men in the street,

the bulls,

even the stones seem

as soft as cotton.

And I ask myself,

Why are they all here?

It's beautiful for a married

woman to want children.

But if she can't,

why go mad trying to have them?

What matters in life is knowing

how to pass your years.

You, shut up!

- No.

I don't want to hurt you.

You saw how

I helped you with prayers?

But what paradise do you think

you're giving your son?

What manna?

The king's throne?

I'm not thinking of tomorrow,

but of today.

I know I thirst.

And that I'm not free.

I want to hold my child in

my arms to be able to sleep.

Listen to me well.

Let me speak.

Even if I knew that my child

will hurt me,

hate me,

drag me through the streets

by the hair,

I'd be happy just the same

when he is born.

It's better to weep

over a living man,

who could even stab you,

than crying over?

this phantom,

which weighs heavier every year.

You're still too young

to listen to advice.

But while you wait

in God's grace,

you should protect yourself

in your husband's love.

You just poked your finger

in my sorest wound.

Your husband is good!

He's good, good, good!

So what?

If he only were bad!

But not him.

No, he walks his paths,

with his sheep,

and at night,

he counts his money.

When he covers me,

he does his duty.

I feel cold,

like I were a corpse,

and I, who've always been

disgusted by carnal women,

at the moment, long to be

a mountain of fire!

Yerma!

- I'm not a shameless wife.

But I know children are made

by men and women together!

If I could only

have them by myself!

Remember,

your husband suffers too. - No!

No. He doesn't suffer.

Because he does not

want children.

Don't say that.

- I can read it in his face!

And because he doesn't,

he won't give me any.

I don't love him!

I don't love him!

I don't! I don't!

I don't?

And yet?

he's my only way out.

For my family's honor?

he's my own salvation.

It'll be day soon.

You should go home.

The beasts will be

brought out soon.

You mustn't let yourself

be seen going about alone.

I had to give vent.

How many times

must I say it in my prayers?

The laurel one, twice.

And St Anne's, at midday.

And when you are pregnant,

you can send me the grain you promised.

The mountains are getting lighter.

Hurry, the doors will be opening soon.

It would good for you

to go around the ditch.

Oh, well?

I don't know why I came.

Are you regretting it?

See, there she is.

Yes, I'm here.

- And what are you doing here?

If I could, I'd shout

and wake the entire village.

So they could see where

my house's honor has ended up.

But I must swallow this and

shut up because you're my wife!

If you can shout, so can I.

I would wake the dead

so they could see my honesty.

No. Not this.

I can bear anything but not this.

You lie and trick me!

Because I work in the fields,

I can't even imagine your cheating.

Juan!

- You others, shut up!

Your wife has done nothing wrong!

She will.

Since the day we got married,

passing the nights awake with

her eyes wide open next to me,

looking daggers at me,

drowning the pillow in wicked sighs.

Be quiet!

I won't take it anymore.

One must be made of wood,

to have one near

who sticks nails in your heart,

and leaves her house

to go looking for what?

Speak! To go looking for what?

The streets are filled with men.

You don't go into

the streets to pick flowers!

Don't you say one more word.

Not one more.

You think that you and

your family are the only ones?

to keep their honor clean.

And you don't know?

that in my father's house,

there was nothing to hide.

Go on.

Come closer. Smell my clothes!

Get up close. Let's see,

if you can find a scent

that's not yours.

Of your body.

Drag me naked through the street,

spit in my face,

do whatever you want

because I am your wife.

But beware,

to pin another man's name

on my breast.

It's not me who says so.

You do it by your own conduct.

People are beginning to say so.

When I meet them in groups,

they become quiet.

When I go to weigh the flour,

they become quiet.

And when I sleep outside at night,

even the trees seem to become silent.

But I don't know?

why an evil wind rises

to ruin the wheat.

And you know the wheat is good.

I don't know that.

What does a woman look for

every day outside of her home?

I look for you!

I look for you day and night

without a second of peace.

I want your blood, your refuge.

Get away!

- Don't send me away. Come with me.

I said get off me!

- Juan!

See how I am alone!

Alone?

As if the moon were searching

for herself in the sky.

Look at me!

Let go of me

for once and for all!

I went in search of flowers

that belong to me.

And I've found a wall.

A wall where I'll smash?

my? head?

Oh, God! You poor thing!

It's nothing.

Cursed be my father?

because he gave me blood

for a hundred rivers.

And cursed be

my blood that seeks,

beating itself against walls.

What does it matter?

At least let my voice flee

from my body,

now that it is falling

in the darkest pit.

Let it fly from my body,

this one beautiful thing,

at least,

and fill the air.

Hurry up, let's go.

There's no point

in wringing my hand!

Shut up!

It's one thing to love

with your head,

it's another thing to love?

and that the body?

may it be damned,

doesn't respond.

That's how it is now.

I can't fight alone

with these arms?

against all of the sea.

Fine. Fine.

Let my tongue dry up.

I speak no more.

I couldn't have you

when you were a girl,

though now that you are married,

I'll have you.

I want to have you naked,

wandering and married,

when midnight tolls.

I want to have you naked,

wandering and married,

when midnight tolls.

Did you drink the holy water?

Yes.

Now we'll just have to see?

what this saint can do.

We believe in him.

You come to beg

the saint for children.

Every year, there seems to be more

and more men about this retreat.

Single.

Who know what goes on?

Why come here

if you don't have faith?

To look around.

I love looking around.

I come also to keep

an eye on my son.

Last year, two men were stabbed

because of one of you.

I must be vigilant with him.

And besides, I like to come.

May God forgive you.

- And you too.

Did she come too?

There she is.

I had a hard time convincing her.

It's been a month since

she's risen from her chair.

She scares me.

She has something in her head,

I don't know what,

something horrible.

I came with my sister.

We've been coming for 8 years,

but with no result.

They who want children,

have them.

That's what I say.

I never liked this place.

Let's go outside,

where the people are.

Last year, when it was dark,

some boys grabbed my sister

by the breasts

and squeezed so hard!

For miles around, you hear

nothing but terrible things.

Behind the sanctuary,

I saw 40 barrels of wine.

A flood of single men are arriving.

Lord, let the roses bloom.

Don't leave me in shadow.

Lord, over the withered bedroom,

let the red rose bloom.

In the womb of your servant,

put the dark flame of the earth.

Lord, let the roses bloom.

Don't leave me in shadow.

In heaven, there are gardens

with roses of happiness,

and there between gardens

is the flower of delight.

Lord, open your rose garden

over the withered bedroom.

Lord, calm with your hand,

your arms, the blushing face.

Lord, listen to this penitent

in her sacred wandering.

Open the pink womb,

even if it's full of thorns.

Lord, let the roses bloom.

Don't leave me in shadow.

Suffer the faded flesh?

the roses of wonder.

Spain exactly:

difficult and eternal,

which hides in its veins

the true tradition.

We have not decayed.

Let's hope

they'll let us sleep, eh?

Hey?

Pretty one!

Why did you come here?

I don't know.

Stubborn, eh?

And your husband?

He's over there.

What is he doing?

He's drinking.

Less sighs and more grit.

I couldn't tell you

anything before.

But I can now.

What can you tell me

that I don't already know?

What can't remain unsaid.

Even the rocks know it.

The fault is your husband's.

Did you hear me?

His grandfather,

his great-grandfather?

have never been real men.

They needed the devil and

holy water to have a son.

They are made of stone.

But not your family.

Brothers and cousins

for hundreds of miles around.

See the curse that

has befallen you.

Beautiful as you are.

The curse?

A sea of poison on the grain.

But you still have legs

to walk away from that house.

Go away?

When I saw you at the pilgrimage,

I had an idea.

Here the women come

to meet unknown men,

and afterwards, the saint

does a miracle.

My son?

will wait for you

behind the sanctuary.

My house needs a woman.

Go with him.

We've already talked about you.

The three of us

will live together.

My son has good blood.

He's like me.

If you come to my home,

there'll be the smell of the crib again.

Decide.

And don't worry about people.

As for your husband,

there's so much courage

and knives in my home,

he dare not show his head

even by passing the street.

Be quiet!

Hush!

Never.

I ask charity from no one.

You think I could go

with another man?

And my honor?

Where will it go?

Water can't fight

against the flood.

Nor the moon rise at midday.

Did you really think I could

go chasing after another man?

That I would beg him,

like a slave,

to give me what is mine?

Now you know how I'm made,

don't utter another word.

I'm not looking for anybody.

When one is thirsty,

they look for water.

And I'm like an arid land which

a thousand oxen could till,

and all that you offer me?

is a cup of water.

My pain is no longer in my flesh.

Then go on that way.

As you wish.

You're like late summer:

all thorns,

spoiled!

Yes, spoiled.

I know.

But don't hurl it in my face.

Don't amuse yourself,

as children do

with small animals in pain.

Ever since I was married,

I've been avoiding that word.

And this is the first time

I've heard it.

The first time they tell me

to my face.

The first time that I understand?

that it's true!

You like my tie?

It's nice.

You want it?

For how much?

I'll give it to you.

This shows that

I've been a good boss.

You like my tie?

- Go away.

Why did you that?

- Shut up.

Go to your sheep.

Me?

- You.

Why?

You're here?

Yes.

Were you spying?

Yes.

Did you hear?

Yes.

Yes, what?

Leave me alone and go sing.

Now, I'm going to speak.

Speak.

I tell you what won't do.

What?

I have a bitterness in my throat,

And me in my bones.

Always the same whining?

for outlandish things,

out of this world,

things which are neither

in heaven nor earth.

Things out of this world?

Neither in heaven nor earth?

Things which never happened?

and of which

we have no control over.

Neither me nor you.

Go on.

Go on!

Things which I don't care about!

Got it?

I don't care about it at all.

That's what I wanted to say.

There.

What matters to me?

is what can I hold in my hands

and see with my eyes.

It's true.

So true.

I wanted to hear you say it.

Truth is not felt

when it's locked inside you,

but how large it is, how it screams,

when it comes forth arms raised.

You don't care about anything.

Now I know.

It had to be like that.

Listen,

many women would love

to have your life.

A life with no children is great.

I'm glad I don't have any.

And besides, it's not our fault.

And what do you want from me?

I want you.

Oh, right.

A home,

a quiet life,

and a woman.

Nothing else, right?

Just that.

Right?

Like everybody else.

And the rest?

And your son?

You didn't understand a thing.

Stop asking about that.

Do I have to shout it

in your ear for you to understand?

Just be calm for once.

You've never thought about him?

And even when you see?

that I wanted him.

No.

And I should never hope for one?

No.

Nor you?

Me, less than ever.

So get used to it.

Spoiled!

Listen,

We two will be fine?

together, can't you see?

We two will be fine,

the two of us, peacefully?

Look at me.

Hold me.

What do you want?

I want you.

You're so beautiful

in the moonlight.

You want me like

as if you wanted to eat a dove.

Come on.

Kiss me!

Wasted!

Yes?

I know?

spoiled!

Now, I'm sure of it.

Now, yes?

I can sleep at night?

without waking up with a start?

to see if my blood?

will bring me new blood.

Now, yes?

I am barren?

forever?

I've killed my son.

Yes?

I've killed him?

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