O Gebo e a Sombra (Gebo and the Shadow) Page #3

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A double-edged sword...

You think it's better to be like you,

doing nothing to get on in life?

They laugh at you. You're pitiful.

Everyone despises you.

Your friends all got rich, while

you're a bill-collector for a company,

always the same salary

and the same problems.

In the office, everyone says:

"Poor Gebo"...

- And you take it!

- What else can I do?

"But Gebo is honest".

You never took the chance

to get rich when you could...

I always did my duty.

I did what I could.

I did everything for you.

Yes, I've done my part!

I'm an honest man.

Look at the others!

They got rich, they're happy...

Only God knows that!

While we, poor wretches...

Did you leave the stove on?

We need to make more coffee.

I'll make some more later

so we don't have to heat it up.

Very well.

I've got to work till late.

And it's bitterly cold.

My son...

What?

What?

I can't get him out of my mind.

Sometimes I feel like running away,

like leaving everything and

going out into the world.

And 7 makes 14... Going off

just like that? And 7 makes 21

So do I.

Life is always the same.

Like the rain falling outside

onto the eaves, drop by drop.

Always that

monotonous sound of the rain...

Life is always the same thing.

Our life, yes.

We wear the same old clothes,

darn them, wear them again.

- 'What if something happens to us?

- 'What kind of thing?

Good fortune in life is

when nothing happens.

So good fortune is routine?!

Perhaps. Good fortune is

always doing the same work,

saying the same words.

Like the rain.

Not thinking about it.

Not thinking about it!

I think all the time.

Even when I'm in my grave

I'll be thinking!

Is there just this one kind of life?

Just one?

All lives are like this.

My life is so monotonous,

so cold it's unbearable!

Sometimes,

I wonder if I'm alive or dead.

Not even my dreams

matter any more:

they're all spent.

And is there no other life but this?

For me, when I finish work,

and sit down here,

with my books at my side,

listening to the rain...

How it falls, this rain!...

...I'm not unhappy.

Quite the opposite. I feel fine

with you both near me...

We've been

doing the same thing

for the last forty years,

in poverty, humility.

And my dreams have all worn out,

spoilt by life...

Is there no other life for us?

We have lived our lives,

done our duty.

I don't know if we were put

into this world to be happy...

If this is all there was to life, the

same actions, the same words,

I would die.

I couldn't live.

All that saves me

is my dreams,

what remains of them.

Closed-in, alone,

the more alone the better,

I can dream of my son.

For you, your son

is less than a stranger.

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