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are more important things.
Merciful Mother,
compassionate Mother...
...blessed Mother,
tormented Mother...
I just don't understand you.
You go on and on about
the Madonna of Childbirth.
We drive halfway across
Italy in the fog.
Why didn't you go in to see her?
What are you reading?
Arseny Tarkovsky's poems.
In Russian?
It's a translation...
quite a good one.
Throw it away.
The translator's a very good poet.
Poetry is untranslatable,
like all art.
You may be right
that poetry is untranslatable.
But what about music? Music's...
What do you mean by that?
It's a Russian song.
But how could we have got to know...
...Tolstoy, Pushkin...
...and so understand Russia?
None of you understand Russia.
Nor you Italy then...
...if Dante, Petrarch and
Machiavelli don't help.
It's impossible for us poor devils.
- How can we get to know each other?
- By destroying frontiers.
Which ones?
Between states.
There was a maid in Milan who
set fire to the house.
What house?
- Her employers'.
- What for?
Because of nostalgia for
her family in the south.
So she burned the thing
that stopped her going back.
Why did your musician, Sasnovsky...
...go back to Russia if he knew
he'd be a slave again?
Would you mind telling me why
you won't confide in me?
I don't understand.
You read... you understand.
What is it?
Oh, the letter from the
Bologna Conservatory.
Tell me, was Sasnovsky...
...successful when he returned
to Russia?
Was he happy?
He started drinking.
And then...
- He committed suicide?
- Exactly.
Oh God!
It's me.
Forgive me, I was asleep.
Can I have your identification?
Yes, you can.
Here you are.
Wait a minute.
I'll go and get the keys.
I hope those aren't the keys
to the other hotel?
No, they're to my house.
Here are your keys.
It's our best room.
Good night, Andrei.
Your room is on the next floor.
It's nice here.
It's dark now, but
the countryside's pretty.
There's the river, the mushrooms...
People keep coming back,
they often fall in love here.
Really? You and your boy-friend will like it.
He's not my boy-friend.
Go on, he's sad because he's in love.
No, his mind's on other things.
- Did you knock?
- I hadn't yet.
Do you want to call Moscow?
You haven't talked to your wife
for two days.
What?.. Oh no.
There is no need to.
One... two... three...
Andrei, get up. We'll be eating soon!
I'll be downstairs.
It's lovely. St. Catherine
used to come here, too.
I'm coming...
Excuse me, what does this Russian do?
He's a poet.
- What's he writing?
- The biography of a Russian musician.
Why in Italy?
This musician studied in Bologna
and came to these baths.
- When?
- At the end of the 1700s.
- Who was it? Tchaikovsky?
- No, his name was Sasnovsky.
Didn't he marry a local girl?
No, he was in love with
a Russian serf and died for her.
Such a hurry...
Does your poet like Italy?
Very much. Even so...
General, what's this strange music
we keep hearing day in, day out?
Wonderful music!
Beats Verdi any time.
Hands off Verdi. The music's Chinese.
A different civilization
with no sentimental wails.
The voice of God, of Nature.
Pretend they're not there,
just go your own way.
I've swallowed some water.
Move carefully.
- What does it taste of?
- Sulphur.
That's why it's good for your skin.
It's horrible.
This is the life. I'm nearly asleep.
Somebody drowned here in 1960.
Don't say such things,
you frighten me.
I've seen a lot of the dead
on a war.
Yet listen,..
...it's never too late to learn.
Whatever happens, don't interfere,
Have you heard their talk,
what interests them?
You must live your life differently.
When I was young I've been
in Paris, in Moulin Rouge.
You know why they're in the water?
They want to live for ever.
Look at them...
My cigar's gone out.
Anyone got a light?
Why do they make fun of him?
He shut himself up in the house
with his

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