Caravaggio Page #4

- F***ing marvelous ?

Piss artist !

Its gonna cost you !

- I hope I wasnt interrupting it.

- Youre back !

Not back, just visited.

- Whom child is it ?

- Mine.

- What about us ?

-Well, you have Michele...

..I have Scipione and the child.

The child shall be rich...

..beyond avarice.

TRAIN RUNNING:

Your hair screams out darkest the Medussa weed ?.

Your fingers are cold.

The cold has invade it.

Your blood run slow.

The life is wash away.

A child castle drifting in the foam.

My heart miss it a bit,

I reach up to you, my Magdalene...

..drown in the water of forgetfulness.

Michele.

No peace for the wicked.

Michele !

Francis !

"and God shall wipe away

the tears from their eyes"...

.."There shall be no more death,

neither sorrow nor crying"...

.."neither shall there be any more pain".

"For the former things are passed away."

I am innocent !

I aint kill her ! I never touched them, never

- She was killed by Scipione Borghese !

- Shut your ? you lunatic !

Michele !

F*** you ! Im innocent.

Aint bastard murderer, f***ing bastards !

LAUGHING:

Look, look.

Alone again, down into the back of the skull

imagining and dreaming.

And beyond the edge of the frame. darkness.

the black night invading

The soot from the candels

darkening the varnish...

..creeping round the empty studio,

reading the wounded paintings...

..smashing out in the twilight.

Sharp knife wounded steady in the groin,

of your guts...

..when gulp the air tearing

your last breath from the stars...

..as the sea run into the patch

sheet and you fall into the night.

I float on the glassy surface

of the still dark lake...

..land black in the night,

silence as an echo...

..a mote in your eyes.

You blink and send me

spinning swallow in the vortex.

I shoot through the violet depths.

Unalterable silence

of these waters ! A tear forms in drops.

The ripples spread out

beyond the farthest horizont...

..beyond the matter,

scintilla, star !

I love you more than my eyes.

Ive trapped your spirit

in matter...

..wont you got no value

Im gloat like the leery-lyric of the fields ...?

..is horribly perverted.

E' posto alto sugli altari di Roma.

Che vergogna !

God catchs you, YOU !?

Years ago..

when we met...

..I dreamed the paintings

I could love.

His Cardinal should buy

una vigna. Some more wine, Michele ?

Lambrusco, Frascati,

Lacrima Cristi...

..wine from the Veneto,

wine from Sicily...

..but for the reassurning ?...

..stronger than the sun in July,

richer than the Vatican...

..We have the establishment song ? ,

vino del Moro.

This f***ing artichokes swimming

in rancid oil !

INAUDIBLE VOICE:

BELLS CHIME:

- Eminence.

-Michele Caravaggio...

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