The Time that Remains Page #2

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Where does he live?

Open up!

Don't move! Hands up!

Are you Fuad Suleiman?

Come with me.

Nobody move!

He's the gun maker.

Get out of here, go home!

Get lost!

I'll wait for my cousin.

We'll go together.

Together?

Together!

Why don't you go, bring a casket,

then you can go "together"!

Go home!

Get lost or I'll shoot!

Count to ten.

While you decide to tell us

where the guns are hidden.

If you get to ten

I'll blow your head off.

Count!

One...

Two...

Three,

four,

five...

Ten.

My Dear Nadia,

Everyone sends you their regards.

Fuad is a lot better.

His chest is hurting less.

The doctor

told him to stop smoking

and not to go fishing

on cold nights.

Elia is fine.

His grades at school are excellent,

although the teachers say

he's always in the clouds.

Olga sends her regards too.

She claims she saw you on TV,

shaking King Hussein's hand.

So I've asked Fuad

to take her to the eye doctor.

There are rumours the government

is issuing permits to go to Jordan,

for people

with immediate family there.

But they only consider

those who serve them.

The economy here

is getting worse and worse.

Electricity and kerosene prices

keep going up.

The dollar is at an all-time high.

Talking of kerosene,

now that the neighbour works

in gas stations,

he drinks, flips out

and douses himself with kerosene.

Neighbour, quick!

He's doused himself again.

Since he's been working

in petrol stations,

he drinks, flips out

and douses himself with kerosene.

Come on, move!

Put your cigarette out first.

I can't take any more!

Let me end it all.

Don't come close.

Anyone comes close,

I'll f*** his mother!

Leave me alone!

Let me end it all.

I've got nothing left.

You'd better not come close.

You've got your whole life

before you.

I've got nothing.

What kind of life is this?

Live or die, it's all the same.

F*** this life!

Sh*t on this life!

Tomorrow

we may sail

From the beaches of Eilat

to the Ivory Coast

The old warships

will be used to transport oranges

This is not a metaphor

nor a dream

It is as true

as the sunshine at noon

If it's not for today,

then it's for tomorrow

And if not for tomorrow,

then it's for the day after

Tomorrow

we will build with our hands

what we dream of today

This is not a metaphor

nor a dream

It is as true

as the sunshine at noon

If it's not for today,

then it's for tomorrow

And if not for tomorrow...

if not for tomorrow

Then it's for the day after!

Thank you very much.

I am proud and happy

to award this marvellous choir

first prize

in the Hebrew singing competition.

Awarding this prize

to a school of the Arab minority

is another proof

of our willingness

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