faces Sunday after
Sunday as I've stood here before you.
Fear has brought you here.
Horrible, superstitious fear.
Fear of divine retribution.
A bolt of fire from the skies,
the vengeance of the Lord,
and the justice of God.
But you have forgotten the love of Jesus.
You disregard his sacrifice.
Death. Fear.
Flames, horror, and black clothes.
Hold your meeting, then.
But know if you do this in the name
of God, and in the house of God,
you blaspheme against him and his Word.
Wait. There is a meeting, Master Morgan.
Well, Huw.
- I'm glad you've come.
- Thank you, sir.
Is there anything I can do?
Indeed there is.
You can do me a great service.
This watch.
My father gave it to me
when I entered the ministry.
It's marked time we've both loved.
- Take it.
- No, sir.
A service, I said you'd be doing me.
No need for us to shake hands.
We will live in the minds of each other.
Mr Gruffydd, won't you
see Angharad before you go?
She wants you to.
No.
If I were to see her again,
I couldn't find the strength to leave her.
Goodbye, Huw.
And there's a good old man you are.
What is it now? Fire, or flood, or what?
A cave-in, they are saying.
- Take me up there.
- What good in the darkness of a mine?
Your eyes are no good in daylight
from the blows you've taken in the ring.
I can still swing a pick deeper than any man.
Take me up there.
Men. Men. Women.
Those of you with relatives.
Let them to the pit.
- Gwilym Morgan?
- Not yet, sir.
Mr Gruffydd? On the lower level, he was.
- My father?
- Not yet, Mrs Evans.
Angharad...
Who is for Gwilym Morgan and the others?
I for one. He is the blood of my heart.
Come, Cyfartha.
'Tis a coward I am.
But I will hold your coat.
Dadda!
Dadda!
Dadda!
Huw, lad.
Dadda!
- Dadda!
- Huw.
Mr Gruffydd!
There's a good old man you are.
He came to me just now.
Ivor was with him.
He spoke to me,
and told me of the glory he had seen.
Look.
Men like my father cannot die.
They are with me still,
real in memory as they were in flesh,
loving and beloved for ever.
How green was my valley then.
Visiontext Subtitles: Paul Murray
ENGLISHI am packing my belongings in the shawl
my mother used to wear to the market,
and I am going from my valley.
And this time I shall never return.
I am leaving behind me
my 50 years of memory.
Memory.
Strange that the mind will forget so much
of what only this moment is passed,
and yet hold clear and bright
the memory of what happened years ago,
of men and women long since dead.
Yet who shall say
what is real and what is not?
Can I believe my friends all gone,
when their voices are still a glory in my ears?h
No. And I will stand to say no and no again,
for they remain a living truth within my mind.
There is no fence nor hedge
around time that is gone.o
You can go back and have what
you like of it, if you can remember.
So I can close my eyes on my valley
as it is today and it is gone,
and I see it as it was when I was a boy.
Green it was, and possessed
of the plenty of the earth.
In all Wales, there was none so beautiful.
Everything I ever learnt as
a small boy came from my father,
and I never found anything he ever told me
to be wrong or worthless.
The simple lessons he taught me
are as sharp and clear in my mind
as if I had heard them only yesterday.
In those days, the black slag,
the waste of the coal pits,
had only begun to cover the side of our hill,
not yet enough to mar the countryside,
nor blacken the beauty of our village.
For the colliery had only begun to poke
its skinny black fingers through the green.
I can hear even now
the voice of my

------------------------------
Читайте также:
- текст Вертикаль на английском
- текст Основной инстинкт 2 на английском
- текст Заклятие долины Змей на английском
- текст Токийская история на английском
- текст Дикая охота короля Стаха на английском