July 1916: the writer Sibilla Aleramo received from her friend,
Leonetta Cecchi, some poems written by the young poet Dino Campana
"In the night it beats: blind for the route inside the inhuman eye
of the night of a destiny, in the most distant night
for the route of the night, my footsteps beat, beat."
Dear Mr Campana, I was greatly impressed by your poetry.
How did you arrive at such astounding virtuosity?
Who are you? Write and tell me about yourself. Sibilla Aleramo.
A JOURNEY CALLED LOVE
Dear Sibilla,
I am so terribly bored. I don't see how you can live in Florence
and know certain fashionable literary people.
I heard how successful your book is, a true bible of feminism.
I'm the only person who hasn't read it. But here in the mountains
it isn't easy to get hold of a copy. I would like your picture
in order to study you. I kiss your hand. Dino Campana.
I am sending you some poems. I wouldn't be displeased
if you found a buyer for them.
Dear Campana, you want my picture in order to study me?
But I'm not very photogenic. Maybe we can meet sometime.
You say you are bored, you almost doubt you exist,
but your poetry is life itself.
Dear Sibilla,
I would be happy to share with you the admiration I feel
for the Apennine mountains.
You don't find me fun? Tell me,
would you like to live in a tent?
Dear Sibilla, we are not far away.
Follow my instructions, you can't go wrong.
There's a car that drives up to the town every day at 7.
I'll wait outside the trattoria for you.
I'm not that wild.
I'm considered a decent boy around here.
Are you hungry?
Yes, a little.
Don't do that for my sake, I assure you I usually eat with a fork.
No, it's not for you. I like to eat with my fingers now and then.
Forgive me.
- Do you live alone? - No.
With my father and mother,
old as I am.
Tell me.
Are you looking this beautiful for my sake?
The truth is...
I was afraid you wouldn't like me.
I wasn't sure it was you before.
I wonder why I sent you that photo.
I've brought you back the articles you sent me.
I was very moved by the one about your childhood.
I have something for you.
This is the only novel I have ever written, dedicated to my son.
I'd be interested in hearing your opinion.
- It's about my life. - "A Woman".
You're married?
"My childhood was free and happy."
"For a long time in the dark period of my life..."
It's nice paper.
Seven lire.
Have they told you I'm crazy?
The townspeople call me "the nutter".
- You don't seem crazy to me. - So much the worse for you.
What shall we do?
Live in a tent.
Why not?
Even if I suffer from arthritis.
I'm not that young anymore, you know that.
Can you manage?
Yes.
You told me you were a good walker in your letters.
I'd love to see the Apennines with you.
Think of me with affection, Sibilla.
You haven't asked me where we're going.
I'm following you.
I'm looking for a word...
a single word to spit in your face,
to sink you, shit however.
The Nobel Prize is given to the chemist who makes a great discovery!
A word! Fetid dynamite that soils the scarlet
of your swinish blood and crushes your backbone.
And you die in the muddy, slimy puke
of your being.
It's for your friends in Florence,
the sewers of ltalian literature.
Let them learn how to write. In blood!
You wanted to hear the great poet.
Here he is.
"My childhood was free and happy.
For a long time in the dark period of my life,
I looked at my dawn as something perfect.
As though it were true happiness.
Now with less anxious eyes
I can see in my early years some vague shadows.
And I feel that even as a child I wasn't really
totally happy."
You look better with short hair. Where's your plait?
I buried it, like sailors do.
- Did I hurt you? - Not at all.
"My love for my father dominated. He was the bright example
for my small individuality and he represented the beauty in life.
He knew everything and was always right."
- Get back to work. - I hear you're a little devil.
Hell doesn't exist, nor does heaven.
You're so sweet.
- You kissed me. - It's not the same thing, ignorant.
- Those outside are ignorant. - Get back to work!
Will you stop that?
- Yes, ma'am. - Dad will be home late.
- Stop that, holy sacrament! - Rina, don't blaspheme!
- I'll go to hell. - So will I.
I don't want to hear these things.
Your daughter says that, but she'll settle down when she grows up.
I'm never getting married. Marriage is a centuries-old lie.
The world will end if no children are born.
I haven't been guarding you these last two days.
I won't let you out of my sight from now on. I'll guard you day and night.
Tell me why! Tell me! You planned all this, didn't you?
- From the first line you wrote him. - I don't know, Sebastiano.
- I can't help it. - Sibilla... Sibilla.
What happened? Don't you care about me anymore?
Sebastiano, that's enough. Free me from this suffering.
- Please. - He's all you can think about.
- You can't wait to go back to him. - Let go of me!
That's enough!
No mercy! And even I read you his poems!
Sibilla, I'll do anything you want, but I need to understand.
You have to explain!
- I ate the soil, it tasted of love. - You're talking like him now.
You're just like him!
The great feminist who wants to change the world!
Rina. Rina.
Sibilla Aleramo, who I love.
Rina, everything's working out the best way possible.
How I love the poverty of things on these mountains
that make us appreciate our wealth.
Dino, my feelings are so strong, I don't know how I can bear them.
I can see before my eyes that road in the sunshine,
early in the morning, the springs I drank from,
the earth that mingled with our kisses.
Where are you? I feel so torn apart from myself!
Is he awake? Leonetta, I didn't know where to go.
- Do you have a cigarette? - Look on Emilio's desk.
I feel sorry about Sebastiano.
Why can't you find some peace?
- I told you it would end this way. - I know.
Who is it this time?
It's the love of my life.
- You say that every time you sleep with someone. - This time it's true.
- Well then? - Emilio, I'm so sorry.
- I'm sorry, I woke you up. - Hello.
- What's so funny? - She's left Sebastiano for another.
These things happen.
- Nothing shocks you. - There's not much to be happy about.
- I'm in love with Dino Campana. - Oh God!
Well done.
- That's why he wrote asking of you. - He's written to you?
And what did you write back?
That you're a respectable woman.
He goes about saying he's a German poet? He could get into trouble.
- Dino is a little strange. - Everyone avoids and hates him.
I have never been so happy.
I respect him. I think a man like him needs helping.
What if he only wanted to amuse himself...
..and I took it too seriously? - It's the way you are.
He'll think I'm a whore.
He asked me how many men... What did you say to him?
Just that you're a smart woman.
Forgive me, let's change the subject.
Good idea.
- I'm so tired. What time is it? - Almost 7.
- What time are you leaving? - At 8.
And I'm here chatting. What happened to your transfer?
I've put in an application.
I hope it's accepted. There's no risk of you going to the front line?
I've put a blanket out for you.
Do you think he really does love me?
May you rest while I burn with the thought of you,
and can't get to sleep.
He's the greatest poet we have, don't overwhelm him.
You promised me you'd be even more handsome.
How will you spend these days and nights?
Wearing my blue scarf?
I felt observed with curiosity, looked at by all the men.
And I asked myself: "Will I too fall in love one day?"
- Good evening. - Good evening, miss.
Excuse me.
Let me help you.
Keep still.
There.
- Hurry up. - No one's arrived yet.
Come on, get dressed.
Rina, go and get Mummy's earrings.
The pearl earrings.
- Look, Francesco. - Hello, Mum.
Mum!
I'll help you, kids!
The day's weights.
What is it now?
- How's your mother? - Mind your own business.
It was an accident.
I'm busy.
Your father has a mistress.
A widow with five children. He's been paying her way for months.
She warms his bed for him.
The bastard! It's your mother I feel sorry for.
Don't worry, I'll take care of you.
I felt him squeeze my hands, stroke my hair
my whole being gave way to the sweetness of his touch.
What has the whore got to do with the Army?
They confiscated my passport.
They said I was an anarchist, that I wanted to kill the King.
Good evening.
This is her.
The lady, she's famous. They've put her on the coins.
- Is it really you? - Yes, that's right. It's me.
Why should a woman be on the coins?
- Because I was good. - And you're not any more?
- No, not anymore! - What a fine pair!
- Drink up, it'll do you good. - No, I'll drink this.
But it's the last.
Then we'll go.
Let's go.
She loves me. She writes me letters every night, don't you?
Yes, and so do you! And I beg you not to stop writing them.
- What if I have syphilis? I've only been with whores. - I'm not scared.
How many men have you been with?
Ten, twenty, a hundred?
I couldn't wait to see you.
Me too.
And the stars... were absent.
And not one god was in the violet evening of love,
but you light, you sat on my knee
and the absent stars and not one god
in the violet evening of love, but you lowered your violet eyes.
You were violet in the evening of love.
Sibilla, will you...
will you marry me?
I'm already married.
Live with me.
Delicious. Who made them?
- I did. - We did.
- We always do them together. - Well done.
- Would you like some more? - No, thanks.
Try the tortellini
with a drop of wine.
Taste them now.
It's used around these parts.
Good morning.
Madam.
Torquato Campana.
I am the boy's guardian.
- How old are you? - Ten years older than Dino.
You're so beautiful.
- And you have a son? - Yes, Walter.
- He's over 20. - Yes.
Yours is a fine novel.
I couldn't believe you were coming here! You're so famous.
I thought Dino was joking.
Dino has given his parents a lot of problems.
They call him the "madman" around here, because of his fits.
He reacts by getting aggressive...
..so the mayor entrusted him to me. I'm the guardian of his mind.
I'm very fond of him. Is is true D'Annunzio's a friend of yours?
We write to each other sometimes.
Cardarelli, and Boccioni...
Papini, Soffici, Remora and Boyle. All sewers, uncle!
- Dino! - He doesn't agree with them.
He argues with everyone.
Which of these do you believe is the greatest artist?
Dino.
It's good of you to take care of our son.
- We're going to have a nap. - I have prepared
your brother Manlio's room for signora Aleramo.
- That pain in the ass, my uncle. - Wait for me.
- I'm sorry, they're suffocating. - No, they're kind.
No, they're not kind. But at least we'll scrounge our meals.
The madman!
Good morning.
I'm not mad! Understand? I'm not mad!
- I'll take you to the seaside. - The iodine's bad for me.
- They take children there. - Then take your son.
My husband won't let me see him.
I left the marital home, I've no maternal rights.
I wonder what he looks like now!
I wouldn't recognise him.
Find me a gun, I'll shoot that bastard of your husband.
Open up, don't be stupid.
The sea air will be better for us than mountain air.
Why do you go to the river at night?
To get some fresh air.
He's going for a walk, Mum.
- Don't worry. - The cafe' in the square
is so welcoming.
The moon is so
beautiful.
- Your mother's going crazy. - I'd go crazy too, Dad.
You can stop coming to the salt- works after this month.
It's not fair.
This job is my whole life.
Why? What have I done wrong?
You're all dirty.
Your face is black. Look!
You're not coming after this month?
- At least I won't have to see you. - I'm the only one who loves you.
Am I fond of you, little demon?
You love that oaf!
Go and clean the shit from his shoes.
I was the victim of a plan.
Love must have done all this.
Signora Sibilla, take this. It's the Madonna of Pompei.
She will protect you both.
Take good care of her.
She's an important lady.
- Precisely. - We have to eat too!
- Go and talk to her. - No.
- Go and talk to her. - Good morning.
- Did you go for a swim? - Yes.
I didn't give you the receipt.
- No, it doesn't matter. - No, or I'll forget about it.
It's too late to go swimming now.
My husband came straight out of the water.
Rosetta, prepare a cold drink!
No, Dino.
- What's the matter? - Wait.
Gently, darling.
Gently.
Wait.
Stay with me... stay with me.
Rina!
You're mine, you're mine.
Why do you call me Rina?
Why?
Sibilla belongs to everyone.
Rina is my little girl.
Here you are, madam.
Do you remember Douchet? They've sent a translation.
Done! How long did it take me?
An hour. Have you really translated it all?
Let me see.
Marco, Franco, Luciano, Andrea, Mario...
Even poor dear Sebastiano.
All the sewers of ltalian literature.
- What do they want from you? - They're trying to help us.
They've each bought a copy of your book.
I have nothing in common with them. I wouldn't want them at my funeral!
They're my friends and I don't know how many I'll see after the war.
What about me?
I won't be here when the war is over either.
The family is growing, she can stay with us from today.
She followed me along the beach.
It's a female, I think she's on heat.
What is it? Have I done something wrong?
Sebastiano's in Gorizia Military Hospital. He may not walk again.
The guy whose place I took?
And you're weeping over him?
You mustn't. They'll give him a nice medal for his wounds.
Forgive me.
I'm sorry.
Forgive me, I'm sorry.
The roses faded in a moment.
The petals fell.
Because I couldn't forget the roses.
We looked for them together.
We found the roses.
They were her roses.
They were my roses.
This journey called love.
With our blood,
with our tears we made roses,
that shone,
a moment,
in the morning sun.
- Write it down now, don't lose it. - No.
- Why not? - I won't write another line.
It's all in the safe, German steel Krupp!
That's enough of Germans! The landlady asked me if it was true
..that you're related to William ll. - What did you say?
I didn't want her to feel made a fool of.
Now she won't think we steal her vegetables.
There's so much sand! Did you know it's dead earth?
Why are you so agitated?
You're right.
It's the iodine stimulating my thyroid gland.
If I do this...
the iodine...
I gave you a fright.
What a fool you are!
I held my breath!
- I wanted to see how long I'd last. - Never do that again.
Then I mean a lot to you?
I love you.
I've written to Emilio and Leonetta.
You did well. I'll add a few lines to it.
Emilio will like that, he has a lot of respect for you.
Emilio is what you call a true friend.
My only friend.
All the other intellectuals in Florence are jackals.
- How can you hang about with them? - I worked with them, before you.
They made me ill with their lies.
I wasn't like this before, my love.
I should never have sent them the only copy of my manuscript.
I asked whether it was worth printing and they made it disappear.
- Without an explanation. - But you managed to print it?
Yes, but the effort...
I had to dig deep down in here.
An inhuman effort, reconstructing the pieces,
word after word.
That's how people fall sick.
Do you know what your friends did?
They came to whistle beneath the hospital windows.
There was one doctor who even told me I had nephritis!
Do you understand, Rinetta?
Dino, that's enough!
- Calm down now. - Storm's brewing, let's lock up.
Calm down now!
There.
What's up?
- What's up? - You're hurting her.
- Put her down, Dino! - Don't you like it here?
Go outside then... go on!
That's enough!
Do you want to go too?
Do you want to go to your friends?
They're outside, they're calling you.
- Stop it, you're scaring me. - I'm the one who should be scared.
I'm surrounded.
Listen. It's Sebastiano who's saying: "I'm dying, Rina!"
"I'm dying."
Don't listen to it, it's only the wind.
No... let me go.
Let me go!
Let me go.
They sent you to steal my sperm!
Madam, what's going on?
- How long has she been sick? - Five days.
- Giuditta hasn't caught it yet? - No, and she won't sleep near her.
She's afraid of the spots.
I wonder what she's up to. She's in there with her paints.
- When will Emilio be back? - He wrote that he'll be back,
..but I hope it won't be months. - Dino would have liked to see him.
I know what you're thinking. You think it's absurd, don't you?
I've stopped wondering about your love affairs.
I refuse to believe a man could reduce you to this state.
He lost control, he didn't mean it.
- It won't happen again. - Dino is dangerous.
- Look at the state you're in. - I'm not a child, Leonetta.
- I'm convinced it's worth it. - We all hope so.
What's wrong?
- Do you have a cigarette? - Emilio always keeps a few.
Calm down.
- He's gone. - Mummy!
Yes, but calm down now.
- Help me! - Stop acting like a crazywoman!
- I beg you! - The children will hear you.
- Please... - Stop that!
I live in fear that Emilio will not return and you don't give a damn!
My dear friend, I am too tired to try and understand,
that's why I took the side of the weakest and decided to leave.
I fled to the mountains and tried to leave ltaly
but they stopped me on the borders.
I wanted to enlist voluntary but they said I was neurasthenic
and declared me unfit.
I wrote to your friends in Florence again,
in the hope they would love what I write.
Dear Rina, I love you so much!
Forgive me.
Forgive me if I no longer want to be a poet, not even for you.
I'll read the proclamation: "Blood is the oil needed by
the wheels of this machine that flies from the past to the future.
War makes a void so that one can breathe easier..."
These young people will be happy to rush to the front line.
Sit down.
What happened to Campana's manuscript?
It's not only a rumour then?
I don't only sleep with him like I did with you.
- I can see the bruises on your face. - Answer me.
Not this business again.
Ardengo read the manuscript, then passed it on to me.
But at that time,
I was moving house so I gave it back.
Ardengo remembers quite clearly sending it back to your friend.
That's what happened. That is the honest truth.
He is taken by the fire of poetry,
but he's not balanced enough to be a good poet.
The war has destroyed me.
I was struck by the electric waves while I was on the mountains.
Perhaps a vein burst in my head.
Now I deal with communications, I'm at the telegraph station.
It's a form I practice between the various continents.
- Where is he? - Thank you for coming.
He's sick!
- He's doing all he can to be ill! - Fanny, that's enough.
They have to let him go because of his mental state.
I'm the one who marries off the princesses, and causes earthquakes.
Name?
- Surname? - Edison.
It seems he slapped a gendarme, so they arrested him.
What did I do to him?
- He was such a good child. - All that money for treatment!
He knew the Hail Mary in French at 2.
I invented the introspection machine.
I possess strong medium powers.
Good morning.
Are you the guardian?
- I apologise for his behaviour. - Now
I will lift this table without touching it.
You can go.
Mother.
- Let's go home. - Don't make a scene.
Come here!
Take it easy.
Send her away.
I asked her to come.
This bitch persecutes me like God's anger.
I have the responsibility of...
The whore finds fun in my agony.
Nothing has changed.
- Yes. - It's exactly the same, a museum.
"Culture alone can defeat hate." An article of mine on the war.
- Have you nothing to ask me? - No, I know the answers already.
Let me look at you. Yes, you look a mess.
I know, I'm sick, Andrea.
Or you wouldn't be here. "Refugium peccatorum".
I'll show you your room. It's mine, but it will be yours now.
There's a comfortable bed. The only thing that's new.
Thanks... I'm sorry.
Remember? "I'm a chronic invalid
who isn't able to get rid of the toothache in my heart."
That's what you once said to me.
- May I? - Come in.
Seven years together allows us a certain familiarity.
At least that remains.
Here.
The notes to your book. Remember?
With all my corrections. Here.
Start writing again.
Don't waste the time I spent on you.
"I see once more my child's gaze, inexpressible.
A bright gaze, like the blue sky.
His blossoming mouth and his head covered in fine brown hair.
And his restless hands, never still."
Leave him to cry!
Why don't I have a normal wife like other men?
Keep still, Sibilla, you'll break the needle.
There. Arthritis is a nasty ailment.
Let her get a lot of rest.
Take it easy.
Don't get agitated.
- What are you doing? - I'm tired of lying down.
- You need to rest. - I'm rested enough.
I'll do that.
- It looked easy. - Leave it, never mind.
- What can I do? - Nothing.
Forgive me.
What do you think of Campana?
Is this any time to ask?
- I don't know him. - As a poet?
- Above average. - Then tell him.
Write to him, please. He needs you to.
Don't involve me in your love affairs. I don't deserve it.
If I feel like writing to him, I will.
Sad. Stop.
Sick. Stop. Usual arthritis. Stop.
Darling, come.
Will it be like that under two metres of soil in the cemetery?
I mean me, because I'm getting on in years.
- You're very young. Rheumatism? - More or less.
Since you left me, the silence has become so great.
This morning, after a sleepless night, I sent you a telegraph
but you haven't answered back.
Where will you have slept?
All my fantasies of following you were in vain.
Where are you?
I didn't see you at the mud bath yesterday.
I borrowed it from the waiter.
Your friend Andrea sent me a nice letter.
A letter expressing admiration. A very nice letter.
He asked me if I have unpublished poems and promised me work.
Are you happy?
Yes. He's an important critic.
My parents send their regards.
I told them I was coming to see you. My mother sends you a kiss.
I might give it to you later.
You and I?
What are we going to do?
I've dressed up for you.
I took a dose of bromide. That must mean something.
What are the rooms like here? I mean...
Shall we go upstairs?
I've ordered a sweet.
Do you think there's anyone else like us in this hotel?
No one as in love as we are.
All this love isn't bad for us, is it?
He seemed to have an enigmatic smile on his face,
one of satisfaction that I had noticed his look maybe.
I felt I had received a slap from that silent laughter.
A sort of hypnotism forced me to seek his eyes once more.
Your husband says you read a great deal. Have you read Baudelaire?
- I'll send you a copy. - Thank you.
And don't blush when you read it.
Let's go.
You flirted with my friend Paolo. Why does he send you dirty books?
Are you a gendarme or are you taken by poetry?
It's true. I'm ignorant, but not that ignorant.
He lent it to me if that's what you want to know.
I know.
And I know you have written to him too.
Everyone laughs at me in the village and I don't know why.
- What do I have to do? - I only wrote to him.
Must I kill his wife who goes around telling everyone you're a slut?
I only wrote and told him he was wrong, it wasn't what he thought.
And what did he think?
- What's he like in bed? - I've never slept with him.
I wonder if I would feel the same disgust with him as I feel for you.
Every night he humiliated me.
Days, weeks, all wrapped in grey.
I was willing to die with the same awareness of an incurable invalid.
I wondered if once dead, my soul would be joined
by my mother's soul, condemned to madness
and by that of my son.
Mummy!
Mummy?
You're responsible for what you did.
You have to sign it, darling.
I would be a degrading example for the rest of my life.
If I had stayed, he like me,
would have grown up among violence and madness.
I will always be your mother.
- What can you see? - The sea.
A pretty woman going for a swim.
What else?
There's the lady's vegetable patch.
- She's realised some tomatoes have disappeared. - Is her husband there?
There's someone smashing up the house.
- Why do you always forgive me? - I've forgotten it. Come on.
- No, I'm going out for a walk. - I'll come with you.
Are you leaving?
You are leaving.
I know you're suffering.
I suffer too, you know.
But we have to... be strong.
We have to succeed.
It could be so wonderful.
We could do so many things after the war.
We can go to France, for example.
But don't abandon me again.
Please don't.
You're trembling.
I'd like to be strong,
but I can't.
My dear love, faced with such great things,
I feel how useless life is.
Forgive me.
All I remember of you is the immense love I felt, that I want you
and you wanted me.
And I ask your forgiveness for all the misery
that happened between us.
I don't know why I write you absurd letters.
You are far away and won't want to love me.
I understand, you know.
Sibilla, send me a drop of your blood.
I can be healed. Am I no longer your little boy?
My darling, answer me. No, come here.
- Thank you. You look well. - So do you.
- The children? - With their grandparents.
Emilio, this is Amedeo.
- You're a geologist. - I've little to do with your world.
- Your hair's blonde. How are you? - And you?
- Emilio's working in Florence now. - I'm so pleased.
- Your hair suits you like that. - I fancied a change.
It was hard the first week. She wept, went for long solitary walks.
- And Dino? - Letters, telegrammes, she doesn't want to know.
- Is she feeling better? - Yes.
Paper and scissors!
Hold this. I've got two of them, that should be enough.
- No. - Yes.
Your patient is almost cured. She eats and sleeps.
- She helps in the house. - And has stopped crying... almost.
- You nasty Southern oaf! - Merry Christmas, darling.
- Will this do? - Yes.
I was thinking of putting some laurel leaves with a ribbon.
- Too dark, you need a red one. - I've seen one in my room.
- How are you doing? - Fine. What about you? - Fine.
- Have you seen? - What do we do now?
You have to open it.
This is for...
- Christie. - Karin. - Sorry.
- And? - Amedeo.
- My name's Amedeo. - Of course.
- My verses. - Thank you.
An edelweiss.
It's lovely. Thank you.
I'm pleased to see you.
We're pleased to see you too, Dino.
- Emilio. - For Emilio?
- How did you know I was here? - I called in at your place first.
- I left the present with the girls. - It's wonderful.
It works.
- Sometimes the screw... - It works.
I believe you.
It's wonderful.
Amedeo, can I have some wine?
- We chopped it up. - Time to eat!
After a hand to hand battle I finally won!
- Dino. - Not too much. - A leg? - Yes.
I was at a cafe' with some friends in Piazza Sant'Eustachio
..and you were staring at me. - You at me!
I was watching your nose to draw a caricature.
- Yeah, of my willy! - You oaf!
Look at him.
- Oaf! - Three and four.
- Dino will recite some more. - No.
- Yes, yes. - Go on!
- "Beat, beat." - No. - Please. - "Beat, beat."
- Go on! - "Beat, beat."
The routes...
- In the night. - Yes, go on.
And the routes in the night beat
blind... on the routes.
lnside
the inhuman eye
of the night of a destiny in the most distant night
for the routes of the night my footsteps beat
beat.
It sounds different coming from you.
- To Dino, the greatest poet! - To Dino!
- Well done. - I'd like to kiss you all.
Please, recite the one with the roses.
- You don't know it. It's lovely. - I don't remember it.
We looked for them together.
- I don't remember it. - Yes, you do. Please.
I don't remember it.
We found the roses. They were her roses.
- It doesn't matter. - It's my poem!
- Please! - I don't remember it.
We looked for them together. We found the roses...
- I don't remember! - Sibilla.
I told you to write it down.
We looked for them together.
- This is absurd. - Calm down.
I told him to write it down. He's forgotten it.
- It's only a poem. - Poetry is his life.
Sibilla, stop it. It'll spoil everything.
We were only talking.
Please, concentrate for a moment.
We looked for them together. We found the roses.
They were her roses. They were my roses.
- This journey! - Quiet, you whore!
Quiet, you whore.
Did you hear what he said?
Why don't you say something?
He said: "Quiet, you whore!"
Tell him how much I have suffered.
Tell him to be kind to me.
- Enough, I'm going to my room. - Wait!
"Sexual wash-house of ltalian literature."
That's what they call you.
Did you know that?
There's something else, more serious.
She is the cause of this war of ours.
It's her fault those poor boys on the lsonzo are dying.
Their guts crushed, their putrid flesh good only for the flies.
No! You're sleeping with me tonight. You can sleep on the divan.
- Are you worried about me? - Yes.
He does that when he's excited.
Let go of my arm, please.
I'll call you if I need you.
You have to stop this. Understand?
You have no right to do this!
You have no right to walk all over my love!
I'll empty all this love out of your brain!
- Let go of me. - Can't you see the state you're in?
- Haven't you had enough yet? - He's our greatest poet!
- You're crazy! - Let me go!
- Be reasonable! - Keep out of this, Karin!
Dear Sibilla, my silence must have meant to you
that there can be nothing between us. It's all over.
It's a month since you left and I am writing you this one letter.
I've heard nothing of you, except that you're well and almost happy.
I am already outside life itself,
though I still weep.
Sibilla, have you done any work?
Will you come or shall I come to you?
Do you want us to live together or apart?
I kiss you... forever, your eyes,
your lips, your hair.
I'm not coming, my poor love, because I can't
and because I don't want to.
My dear,
if you think I have suffered enough,
I am ready to give you what remains of my life.
Come and see me.
Please.
Yours, Dino.
The letters that had started in the summer of 1916 ended in January 1918
when Dino was admitted to a lunatic asylum, where he died in 1932.
In a moment the roses faded,
the petals fell,
because I could not forget the roses.
We looked for them together. We found the roses.
They were her roses. They were my roses.
This journey called love.
With our blood
and with our tears we made roses,
that shone for a moment in the morning sun.
We made them fade under the sun among the thorns,
the roses that were not our roses.
My roses.
Her roses.
And thus we forgot the roses.