Neruda Page #4

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I told him that I like

jazz and classical music.

I've added a...

A minuet that I love.

From Johann Sebastian Bach.

I sang that and he was thrilled.

He told me that I

was an art worker,

An artist like him,

on an equal footing.

And all of a sudden, he...

Told me a poetry so beautiful.

Long.

He put his hand on my

knee, a hand so warm.

And he told me here.

Slowly.

From artist to artist,

you understand?

From man to man.

With human respect.

But a dog like you would

never understand.

- Where's Victor?

- I do not know.

- How do you not know?

- Don Pablo...

Did you go out for

a walk last night?

Do not.

"You went out to walk?"

- No.

Need more uk?

Who do you Think You Are?

So stay here and do not leave.

If you leave, you'll get it.

They'll rip your clothes off,

Take photos of front and

back and send to France.

They will glue everywhere, even in kites.

It's going to suck.

Good ideas. All.

Reds know the language

of violence well.

No one will get me, learn!

All Chile is hunting me and

no one is going to get me!

Learn to behave like

a man, little boy!

Wear men's clothing!

Grow a mustache, buy a

gun, I do not know!

Learn to respect me!

Who does he think he is?

Easy, sweetheart.

"And here they found a

people who sang..."

"For duty and love gathered..."

"And the lean girl

fell with her flag..."

"And the smiling young man

fell beside him, wounded..."

"For these dead, our dead..."

"I ask for punishment," at

the end of each sentence.

GENERAL CORNER:

For the dead, our dead...

I beg the penalty!

For those whose blood

spattered the nation...

I beg the penalty!

For the executioner who

ordered this death...

I beg the penalty!

For the traitor who

prospered with the crime...

I beg the penalty!

For who gave the

order of agony...

I beg the penalty!

"For those who have defended this

crime, I ask for punishment."

I do not want you to give me the

most splattered of our blood.

I ask for punishment.

I do not want ambassadors.

Nor were they at home in peace.

I want to see them tried in

this place, in this place.

"I want punishment!"

Thank you thank you.

"Here, my friend.

- Thank you comrade.

- You're welcome.

- Excuse...

Sorry, I do not want to bother you.

- What is your name?

- Silvia.

Can I give you a kiss?

Yes, of course, Silvia.

Mrs...

Forgiveness.

Do not tell him he autographed

his book at this party.

We are not here.

I'm a trustworthy person.

I have been a militant since I was 14.

But the senator does not

need to worry so much.

Do not you? Because?

Excuse.

If you're here, at this

party, and start reciting...

"The land, blabla..."

"Love, babe..."

"The punishments, blabla..."

I say it means

That the government does

not want to arrest him.

If they do, they get an

international problem.

- Ma'am, enough.

- Because it's political.

Government is concerned to

pursue it, but not to arrest it.

Never.

The senator is a communist,

like you and me.

Yes, but it has

special protection.

And I'll toast to that,

Because we all need

the senator poet

Keep writing about the

suffering of the people.

Madam, he is protected by the

leadership of the Party.

Do you know what I want to know?

Listen...

When communism comes, everyone

will be the same as him.

Or will they be the same as me?

To me, I've been cleaning

up the f***ing bourgeois.

Since I'm 11 years old.

They will all be the same to me.

Let's eat in bed and

fornicate in the kitchen.

For that we fight, comrade!

"In Bogot they met

Morinigo, Trujillo,"

Gonzales Videla, Somoza,

Dutra, and applauded.

"You, young American,

do not know them..."

Waiting...

What if you read with the other voice?

- What voice?

- A poet, Pablo.

"You, young American,

do not know them."

They are the dark

vampires of our skies.

Bitter the shadows of their wings.

"Pris es, martyr,

death, gave..."

- Finished?

- Yes Yes.

- Where are we going?

- Valparaso.

Thank you.

The senator needs to wait for

a Chinese merchant ship.

AND...

Delia, they do not

allow women on board.

My love...

All right, dear.

Excuse.

Good... we'll talk.

- Good trip.

- Thank you, Victor.

My love...

I will not cry.

A good cop would follow him

to the fugitive's house.

But I'm a bad cop.

I like it when the suspects

confess with whispers or shouts.

"Come and be with me, brother."

Give me your hand, from the

depths of your disseminated pain.

You will not come back from

the bottom of the rocks.

You will not return

from underground time.

Your angry voice will not return.

"They shall not return

thine eyes pierced..."

"Here I was punished."

Because the jewelry did not shine.

"And the earth did not deliver the

stone and the grain in due time."

"I come to speak through

your dead mouth."

Like a river of buried tigers.

And let me cry for

hours, days, years.

"Blind ages, stellar centuries."

Strangely...

I believe in you.

I believe.

I am glad.

I was the first to say:

"Pablo, if you go to

trial, you will win."

So let's go get him together.

But I do not know where, they

do not tell me anything.

Because?

They distrust me because

I'm not Chilean.

I understand.

Let's stay in touch, maybe

I'll find out something.

Yes wait.

We just learned that

Neruda left Chile.

- Really?

- Yeah, he left.

How incredible.

Because?

Because you're watching

over the borders.

Do you think he's still in Chile?

No, he must be outside.

I'm going to Valparaso.

Do not. Because?

To see if anyone saw him leave.

I think he's still in Chile.

But he just said he was abroad.

Do not. You said that

he had escaped by ship.

This is a good example of

a whispered confession.

The lucidity of the policeman overcomes

the stupidity of the Spaniard.

What looks so much out the window?

People.

"Is this silk?"

- No.

So what is it?

A sailor traded the cloth

for 12 bottles of wine.

Good business.

The poet will always applaud

an unfair exchange.

Do I have to pretend

I'm a sailor?

Do not. An eccentric guy, a

rich man from Central America.

Embarking to Ecuador

or to Mexico.

- Does he have to be Chilean?

- In those outfits? I doubt that.

Do not shrink your belly. Release.

- As?

- Release the air.

That.

Do not tell anyone my secret.

Do not worry. No one cares.

"He danced in Vin del Mar

surrounded by jewels and goblets.

But the black eyes stare

through the black night... "

"But the man who caresses

you stops by the desert.

Near the sea coast, in a world

devastated by death... "

"Every people with their pain..."

Don Pablo?

Don Pablo?

Gentleman!

Gentleman!

Sorry, I do not have anything.

The smart cop smells

the Asian odor.

He is close.

Where were you?

They found us. Let's go.

Not yet. We're lost.

Where are we?

- I said it was a good idea.

"Still, it was interesting.

To write well, you must

know how to delete.

There is no terror to this persecution.

Why do I read this?

I want to know.

What is your novel about?

The poet has the fever

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