Csontvary Page #2
- Year:
- 1980
- 112 min
- 18 Views
Who was eager to claim the open air
Who confessed to like the truth
and was never bored by himself.
Who puts love in his craft.
Who searches the future
with his thoughts.
Who broke up with the present
and set sail alongside intuition.
used his heart in confrontation.
There is no place
I cannot glance
upon the sun
or the sentinel stars.
You can ponder upon
truths full of sweets
at any point
under the sky.
And there is no need
for inglorious
even shameful
surrender of myself.
After all...
I still have bread.
I didn't draw
I didn't paint
I just observed, staring at
the monumental beauty of nature
the deep and peaceful
rhythm of feeling
the most beautiful
nature-music of rapture...
I made trips in
all directions
seeking the beauty.
I took delight in the immeasurability
of the large-scale perspectives.
Paint me, Mister!
Paint me!
Escape with me to the mountain,
they can't see us there!
My body is
like the Virgin Mary's!
Don't. No. No!
Because they say I am a whore.
Because the devil is in me?
I just want a man...
Look, Mister,
what a body I have!
Look here!
I want a man.
A man!
A man!
A man!
A man!
A man...
This is the way
of the adulterous woman:
eats, then wipes her mouth and says:
- 'I did nothing evil.'
- Arrived, Mister Artist?
- Yeah Mr. Harkaly.
- Well, you?
- Yeah, me.
After you.
Arrived just now or
were you already upstairs?
Just now.
Fantastic.
Where from?
The mountains,
from the waterfalls.
I from the baker,
fresh bread just arrived.
Smells nice.
Not even love can play forever -
it has to drink from the wine of sorrow
and be reborn in a tear.
- Are you tired?
- No, I am not tired.
Well, then...
Back to the waterfalls, right?
Let's go.
The clocks...
hiding their dreams
briskly pace along.
So short is our life
a mere few days granted for love...
- Do you like it?
- Oh, yes, very nice colours.
Your water is silent
quiet your splashes!
Viola, you are praised
by every sound!
Oboe, flute, cosmic aula!
But most of all, by me
my little mullberry.
Like the wind of May
messenger of dawn
streaming with sweet flavor
mixed of grass and flower
limp wind which
just pounced my forehead.
I feel the feathers fanning
recalling the smell of ambrosia...
And I hear the Word:
Happy is who gained
such mercy from the sky
that his heart repells
the love for fine flavors
his hunger dedicated only to truth.
for some salt and pepper.
God, I am so... confused lately.
Come, Annuska!
- Mom?
- Yes?
I'm so sorry...
I tried my best.
I even sent him a telegram...
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"Csontvary" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 2 May 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/csontvary_6134>.
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