Chess Page #5

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Your son..

Misha,

Leave him out of this, Sasha.

I say the same thing to you!

Like an old dachshund, you

always need to have the last word.

If he were here I could

give all the love that I have.

If he comes, like I

hope and dream.

If he asks, everything will

be new like a blank slate.

You can stop whats happening

and not pretend anymore.

I cant live any more

where sanity rules

where my heart beats.

I love his scent

and when he touches my lips

I feel like fire, like wind,

like earth.

If he were here would he see

all the weaknesses I have?

If he comes

would it be possible

to turn around?

If he says everything in

my life will change today?

You should never regret

what youve done,

but the hope fades fast.

Every second your luck

might change,

love can leave.

Beat, my heart, beat.

He tenderly kisses me,

but when I wake up

the next morning.

..only the taste is left

from something Ive dreamt.

Happiness smiles at everyone,..

but never at me.

Beat, my heart, beat.

Beat, my heart, beat.

He is a man, he is a child.

And he has been

sleeping at my bosom

I gave my summer and my spring

and thousand words of comfort.

I will give my winter and my fall.

Years build upon years

and every season leaves new marks.

I poured newly fallen snow

out of my shoes.

Someone reached out

his hand for support.

When I looked up

he was standing there

and a thousand bells were ringing.

He painted Russias sky red.

He cries swords.

Im working at a grindstone

as days build upon days.

He is a man, he is a child.

But who am I?

A babushka, is that what he sees?

Someone who is always there,

whom you hardly notice.

A babushka.

Not a loved one anymore,

just a woman in the kitchen

with an aching heart.

Violent is the fury

in a woman scorn.

He is against her.

Hating and hating.

I want to burn.

Red and hot is my blood

but he thinks it has cooled

and calmed.

I am a woman.

If he only understood,

he who thinks Ill

quietly accept my faith.

Violent is the fury

in a woman scorn.

He is against her.

Hating and hating.

He is a man, he is a child.

And he has been

sleeping at my bosom.

I gave my summer and my spring

and thousand words of comfort.

I will give my winter and my fall.

Years build upon years

and every season leaves new marks.

I poured newly fallen snow

out of my shoes.

Someone reached out

his hand for support.

When I looked up

he was standing there

and a thousand bells were ringing.

He painted Russias sky red.

He cries swords.

Im working at a grindstone

as days build upon days.

He is a man, he is a child.

But who am I?

Come, tag along on our footpath

in sunny Merano,

flourishing Merano,

making your body healthy!

Our healthy baths, our clear air,

our proud chess union.

Come to our laid table

for a short second.

Once in a while, our Lords

hand wants to bless our Merano

The Rose of the Alps, Merano,

she suddenly prepares herself.

And is ready to praise

the aristocracy,

the press and nobles

watch the ceremony.

The city is filled by music.

Shes pretty, your Comrade.

She gets the highest score!

But shes a bit lazy.

Yes, I mean in bed.

She can be difficult, partner.

If she gets, partner

far too little of your attention

shell go mental.

Dont forget, partner,

shell be pleased, partner,

if she can play the star

in your small charades.

My God, what a wonder

that just the two of you

would become an item

and then they lived happily ever after!

Ever after.

Ever after.

Take it easy, little friend.

Is something bothering you?

What an ass.

Come on, arent you going

to get you some?

Youre afraid, partner.

A little slow, partner.

Are you afraid Ill come

and steal your dole

Youre wrong, partner.

Foul play, partner.

Youre over as a ladies man,

so take off the gorilla-suit.

What a dreamer

if you think shell always want you

She will deceive you

like she has always done.

It goes downhill fast.

To Hell with both of you!

- Right back at you!

Have you got

what you wanted?

Youve lost your halo.

So twist a little more.

What a filthy story.

You drank my blood, woman.

How brave, woman.

You have five hundred

doors left ajar

and youre acting

like a pig, woman.

What a pretty woman.

They flip out when they get

grey hairs and become senile

Are you sane?

Are you ill?

Cant you understand that

I never want to see you again?

Who could have imagined?

What a sad ending to the tale.

What pitiful wailing when

youve lost your faade.

I promise,

it doesnt make anyone happy.

Who would have thought

that we would separate?

Never, never again

will I listen to your nagging.

I swear, I can only feel hatred.

Let it be, hes drunk.

Theres nothing he can do.

Are you happy

with what you have

managed to ruin?

All senses, body and soul,

you have to touch.

I think you want to,.

I know you can.

Your eyes speaks volumes

but I want to hear it .

from your mouth.

Answer me:

Do you want to be mine?

You and I:

dreams made of glass.

reality in one beat.

Wonders happen in life.

The two of us belong together,

its is written..

We have agreed upon a solution

I have slept on it!

And I thank both teams for the respect

youve reverently shown me.

The next exercise begins

at three oclock.

Comes time, comes wisdom.

And I anticipate a

fair, adequate duel,

no jumble - no fraud

I want to see chess

as a gesture

Without intrigues

or crossing the line.

A game permeated by esprit

inspired by learning and fantasy.

I want to see chess

as a gesture

of peace and friendship

between East and West.

A game that defies

the tyranny of the times

and defeats stupidity

and barbarity.

As representative for the referees

we see the experienced

Jean Jacques van Boren.

The defector from the Soviet Union

competes against the American

champion for the throne.

Nothing can last for eternity.

Everyone knows whats wonderful

is brief.

You get one chance and

you make good use of it,

or you see a memory fade away.

That opens an opportunity

for someone else,

like a sudden spring rain in April.

You might know how

to read other men,

but my man, yes, I know

what he wants.

Does he want to be yours?

- He is mine!

He wants to be mine!

- Not yours.

Will you EVER understand that?

I know that he needs

a goal, a plan.

I am just like that!

- He wants to be free to dream,

I know what he wants!

No one can be loved

for all eternity,

every happiness finally

reaches its peak.

So let go of your man

and give us a life.

Youre number two in line after all.

I have learned about

everythings impermanence.

Ive become almost cynical.

Now Im ready to fight

But he is mine and Im

ready to fight

Yes, I know what he wants.

Does he want to be yours?

- He is mine!

He wants to be mine!

- Not yours.

Will you EVER understand that?

With the kind of power

love has had, everything

should be so clear.

Everything should be obvious.

Does he want to be yours?

He wants to be mine!

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