Burnt by the Sun Page #3

...but it's not finished yet.

I like it.

I'd like to show it to you

when it's finished.

It would be nice.

I wanted to make a nice stand.

Well and good standing!

Really?

Elena?

Not again!

Even a tiger is afraid

of a furious virgin.

She sucks nails.

One day we'll find her poisoned to death.

Good morning everyone!

Happy holiday, gentlemen...sorry... comrades!

Where's Mokhova?

Leave her.

Here are some biscuits.

My pleasure.

We're celebrating the construction

of balloons for...?

- Stalin!

- Exactly.

What's wrong, Kirik?

It's the dance of the bird

arriving by balloon, my love.

My love from above, my dove.

Our language is so rich.

Isn't it, Sergei Petrovich?

Sorry.

Happy holiday.

Oh!...

"Oh," what?

Mother, he's teasing me!

You're wrong, Sergei Petrovich.

Kirik never touches a drop of alcohol.

Not one drop...

In any case, today's a celebration.

And it's hot.

I remember...

...Prince Dimitri Pavlovich giving him a drink...

...when he was little.

Oh, yes!

"Drink for drink's sake means trouble."

Early each morning...

Vsevolod Konstantinovich...

...you remind me of

Petya Trofimov in Checkhov...

Petya...

"The Cherry Orchard"!

...the eternal student.

You're at the university and

your friends are at the Academy!

No. They're not my friends.

My friends, as Pushkin said,

"are no more, or are far away."

Did you return the money?

What money?

To the soda water, saleswoman.

- Why the coat?

- I'm trying it on.

A coat in this heat!

Interesting...

I'll pay her tomorrow.

I promise.

"Burnt by the sun"

"As the crimson sea did run..."

Kirik, after your morning port...

...do you still drink tea?

You know, Sergei Petrovich...

...you shouldn't consider drinking a vice...

How would you say?

...a vice of the will,

but rather the elan...

...of a tormented soul.

- Exactly.

My love...

Kirik, the 5 rubles you borrowed from Marussya,

you have to give 'em back.

Enjoy your meal.

It's cold.

Come on...

He...

feels offended...

"GLORY TO THE BUILDERS

OF STALIN'S BALLOONS!"

My name is Lyuba Grucheva.

You should have told us

you were coming here.

I would have given you a ride on my bicycle.

It's romantic.

Especially a lady's bicycle.

Without a bar.

Well?

I don't know. I've never tried

without a bar.

Here he is.

How about a swim?

Exactly.

Coming for a swim?

Of course.

Kirik, you can be so untidy!

Such severity!

That's Comrade Kotov!

We've got his portrait at the university.

- On horseback?

- No.

On foot.

Have you got my portrait?

Who are you?

Me?

I am who I am.

You're a tease.

I'll explain it to you.

Oh, God! Oh, God!

What have they done?

Yes, Mokhova.

No more medicine.

Boris Konstantinovich used to

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