Pereval Page #2

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is the cabin where I was born.

Number 44.

In an ordinary life,

you can't run into yourself.

But here...

Here, tied to the crib,

he saw an unfinished milk bottle.

The milk had frozen,

but you could thaw it and finish drinking.

Come back sixteen years later,

and finish it.

At that moment,

listening to that rattle,

and remembering its sound,

Oleg fully understood

the reality of the ship.

Moments of beauty are rare in life

But there's plenty of unbelief and toil

Thoughts of the past

line our pale faces with creases

Thoughts of the future

are full of leaden worry

The present doesn't exist

So between the two shores,

We battle without light,

without happiness, hopes or gods

So sometimes,

to remember that we are still alive,

We divert our hearts

with another man's game

Let mirages of happiness

with sweet longing rise up again

Let them fool us into thinking

that beauty lives in the castle of death

Age-old fairytales and blue birds

are welcome guests

Our forgotten tears

tremble within those fables...

Oleg, answer it!

Tell them we're here.

Don't just stand there!

It's some kind of mechanism.

I don't know how to respond.

But I'll take books with me.

Many books.

I'll study, and we'll return here again.

And I'll let Earth know where we are.

The goat!

He was waiting for us!

Guys, it's a she-goat.

A doe!

And so they went.

Dick and Oleg pulled the sleigh,

and Mariana steered it from behind.

The goat and her kids came last,

whining for food.

Even when they got to the forest,

with mushrooms and roots,

she still wanted condensed milk.

But like the travelers, she didn't know...

that the sweet white substance

was called "condensed milk."

Written by Kir Bulychev

Directed by V. Tarasov

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