Bread, Love and Dreams Page #3

that in Puglia or in Sicily

the farmers are rebellious,

go on strike on their lands,

I almost cry because at least

they have hope.

But here, since more than 50 years

the land belongs entirely to peasants

so, nothing could happen anymore.

It's a village of progress.

Yes, the progress of misery.

I have been here more than 40 years

and I swear that it takes lots of

strength to confess these poor folks.

Here we live deceiving

ourselves of living.

Maybe providence has decided

that this village must disappear.

And we are dying little by little,

day after day, without realizing it.

By the way, father...

are there often earthquakes here?

I saw ruins.

A little shock each year,

without serious consequences,

and a big one every

And when was the last big one?

Quite a while ago.

It's about time. This year

or the next we will dance.

Good. I have to go.

- This marshal takes the priest for a jinx.

- Why?

He made the sign of horns while

the priest spoke. But he's the cuckold!

Hurry up!

- Have a good sunday, marshal.

- Good sunday.

- What are you eating?

- Bread.

- With what?

- With fantasy, marshal.

- Bon apetit.

- Thanks.

Fantassine!

Do you want to buy these

plums I picked for you?

- For me?

- Yes, for you.

- Why?

- Because i like you.

Are you engaged?

Yes and no.

- What do you mean?

- You ask too many questions.

- Well, do you want them?

- Yes, how much is it?

Give what you like.

Is 50 lires okay?

Yes, it's okay to me.

Make it 100.

- Bring them to the barracks.

- Right now.

Good morning.

- Thief! Give me back my plums!

- Be careful about how you speak.

Give me back my plums.

You stole them from my orchard.

- That's what you say.

- I recognize them!

Your fruit is marked like sheep?

Thief!

There is the chief of thieves

Who is, who is?

I know but I don't say

or you put me in a jail.

Thief! I feel bad.

Take it easy, it's nothing against you!

Peppa, I'll die soon!

Just perish, just perish...

What... do you want?

It's for the marshal.

The marshal is out, come back later.

The marshal bought them and

told me to bring them here.

All right.

What's your name?

Stelluti Pietro, son of Giuseppe.

My name is Maria.

Maria de Ritis

daughter of the late Giovanni.

Nice meeting you.

I'll give you the basket?

I will come back to get it...

tomorrow.

Perfect. As you wish.

Tomorrow.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

- Good morning.

- Good morning.

- My regards, Donna Annarella.

- My regards, Marshal.

- Going for a walk?

- I always walk.

I had to help at a

parturition in Selvone.

There's no end to this place,

all those hamlets!

As you say.

You don't have transport?

I have a mule sometimes,

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