Before Night Falls

Trees have a secret life|that is only revealed

to those who are willing|to climb them.

I do not remember|when I was born.

But, when I was three|months old,

my mother returned|to my grandparents' home

with me as the proof|of her failure.

The splendor of my childhood|was unique,

because of its absolute poverty,|and absolute freedom...

out in the open,

surrounded by trees,|animals, and people

who were indifferent|toward me.

Reinaldo!

Reinaldo!

Nio, aprate con esa agua,|Dios mo!

Mira que hay que esperar|en esta casa!

My early life was surrounded|by a room full of unhappy women

who were all bossed around|by my grandmother,

the heart of the house,

the only woman I ever saw|who peed standing up

and talked to God|at the same time.

My mother was a very beautiful|and very lonely woman.

She had only known one man,|my father,

and had enjoyed the pleasures|of love for only a few months

and then, gave that all up|for the rest of her life,

creating in her|a great sense of frustration.

Her chastity was worse|than that of a virgin.

Hijo de puta!

Vete de aqu!

Animal!

Hijo de puta!

Desgraciado!

The most extraordinary|event of my childhood

was provided by the heavens.

Water rushed down gutters,

reverberating over|the zinc roof like gunfire

a massive army marching|across the trees,

overflowing, cascading,|thundering into barrels,

a concert of drums,

water falling on water,

drenched and whistling|and out of control,

and under the spell of violence,

let loose that would sweep away|almost everything in its path.

Trees, stones,|animals, houses.

It was the mystery|of destruction.

The law of life.

As I saw it,

the currents were|roaring my name.

Flowers have|reproductive organs.

Class, can anyone|tell us what the male

reproductive organ is called?

Reinaldo?

Reinaldo?

A dick.|A long, skinny dick.

Don't ask her where|she comes from.

Can't you see she|is from the garden

and the most beautiful|flower of them all?

Buenas tardes,|con permiso.

Seor Fuentes, I didn't mean|to disturb your dinner.

What did he do?

No, he didn't do|anything wrong.

I came here to tell you that|Reinaldo has a special gift.

What special gift?

He has a sensitivity|for poetry.

After that, my grandfather|sold the farm

and moved the family|to Holgun,

opened a grocery store,

and refused to speak|to any of us.

Holgun was a town|of 200,000 people

and one garbage truck.

The rebels are in Velasco.

We can walk it in a day.

Okay.

We'll leave tonight.

'T bien.

You think you can|do it with her?

My name is Reinaldo.|What is yours?

Loly.

- Would you like to dance?|- Cmo no.

Qu t quieres?|T eres muy nio.

Incorprate a la lucha.

Radio Rebelde, transmitiendo|desde las montaas de Oriente,

desde la Sierra Maestra,

territorio libre de Cuba.

Aqu Radio Rebelde.

Where are you going, kid?

- Up the road.|- Up the road where?

Velasco.

Velasco?|You are not from Velasco.

I am from Velasco.|Why do you go to Velasco for?

Ah, the rebels|are in Velasco.

You going to join|the rebels?

Your mam know you are|going to join the rebels?

No.

Where she is?

She's in Miami, working.

Would you like to see?

It's upside down.

Qu bonita.

You want to hit things?

Sometimes I like|to hit things.

My mother, she has|a store in Velasco.

Before that it was my|grandmother's store,

and before that,|it was her mother's store.

I have six brothers.

They all want|to join the rebels.

The second one,|he joined the rebels.

I'm the middle one,|I don't join the rebels.

Get that for me.

Go home.

The rebels are no more|in Velasco.

Go on, get off.

Get off!

What?|What?

Que viva Fidel!

Viva Fidel!

Cuba libre!

Es todo por hoy.

Spaziva!

As my mother smacked me,|she cursed

and yelled, "Maldito!|Bad seed!"

She shouted at the sky,|"I want to get out of here. "

But I really wasn't sure|that's what she wanted.

But now standing over me

she looked like|a huge tree trunk.

And if it didn't hurt so much,|I'd get down on my knees,

and ask her to smack me again,|even harder.

Then she became beautiful.

How pretty she is in her skirt|made out of a sack

and the blouse she stole|from her sister.

I wanted to get up and beg|her forgiveness.

I wanted to say,|"Mom, how pretty you are today.

You look like|one of those women

that you can only see|on Christmas cards,"

but I said nothing because|of the the knot in my throat.

That was very nice.|What's your name?

Reinaldo Arenas.

Who wrote this?

I did, it's my own-|from my novel.

What do you call this novel?

"Singing from the Well. "

Are you a student?

Yes, I'm an agricultural|accountant.

Tell me, do you think|you'd feel at home

working in the national library?

The pay won't be very much.

But I can promise you|that you'll have all the books

you could ever hope to read.

I would like that|very much.

Thank you very much.

Thank you.

Oye, need a lift?

I want to go down|to Guayanos.

Get in.

Hello.

You like it, right?

It used to belong|to Errol Flynn.

You don't believe me?

Look in the glove|compartment.

Be careful, huh?

Do you want to go|to the movies with me?

What?

Do you want to go|to the movies with me?

- I'll get out here!|- Ay, coo!

You got a flat ass anyway!

Vamos, chico, vamos!

You'll see him tomorrow.

Get out!

Estpido!

...last Saturday night|I made 100 pesos

for letting 10 members|of the National Ballet

suck me off.

Doesn't that make you a fag?

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