Swallows Have Arrived

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Film company Narti Movies

presents

lrlan Khugaev

Arthur Khatagov

Vjacheslav Guriev

in film by Asian Galazov

SWALLOWS HAVE ARRIVED

Divided, I could no longer pray:

It was the Other

who wouldn't let me:

The very moment I clasped

my hands together in prayer

and fell to my knees to answer

a sincere outburst from the heart,

he would run ahead

and stand between me and God

and begin to wink at me

and make faces.

Or, even worse, grotesquely mimic my

every move, glance and intonation,

and often from out of my mouth,

open to pray, would run curses.

Good morning, ma.

Good morning.

I started to lie.

Lies became my second,

then my first,

and finally my only essence.

At the beginning,

when I sinned only rarely,

I lied only to save

and appease myself.

Soon the lies became necessary

to save those around me, my family;

It seemed that I was doing the only

thing I could for my loved ones:

I was sparing their feelings,

I was even acting nobly.

Thank you.

Why are you killing yourself, boy?

Stop, mum.

Please stop it.

Stop what?

Thank you.

Since I achieved a certain skill

and self-dependence in sin,

each new time was the last time.

I believed it sincerely.

But as soon as the last time

was over and I came round,

I could no longer see any point

in further existence,

if it was never going

to happen again.

That's how you live

from one time to the next,

enduring every minute of sobriety as

an eternity of void and loneliness.

I was already unable

to live in reality;

Only a foretaste of just

one more time - the last time...

could make me move and think.

How beautiful the Sun is

when newly risen

He hurls his morning greetings

like an explosion!

Fortunate the one

who can lovingly salute

His setting,

more glorious than a dream!

I remember! I have seen all,

flower, stream, furrow,

Swoon under his gaze

like a palpitating heart...

Let us run to the horizon,

it's late,

Let us run fast,

to catch at least a slanting ray!

But I pursue in vain

the sinking god;

Irresistible Night,

black, damp, deadly,

Full of shudders,

establishes his reign;

The odor of the tomb swims

in the shadows

And at the marsh's edge

my timid foot

Treads upon slimy snails

and unexpected toads.

The hero of the Decadence

is a split personality,

severed in two by the experience

of the disharmony of the world.

It is no coincidence that

the theme of the double becomes

very popular with the Decadents.

Personality, just like the world,

is divided in two,

but the division doesn't end here.

Personality,

as it were, multiplies,

and this multiplication is really

a disintegration of personality

or the "wreckage"

as Beaudelaire calls it.

The absence of one single reality

and the simultaneous existence

of a myriad of different realities,

the collision of these realities

becomes an unbearable burden for

an artist of the Decadence.

How can one survive

this multiplicity of worlds?

How is it possible?

If the Romantic hero is a rebel,

ready to move mountains,

or a visionary, residing in

mystical union with the universe,

then the Decadent hero

is clearly a slighter figure,

often an aesthete

and a melancholic,

sharp of tongue

and malicious of character.

What remains the same is the soul.

The delicate,

frail.

Suffering soul of a poet

in the vulgar environment

of the bourgeois world,

deprived of beauty,

and therefore, justice.

The beauty of the Decadence

is the beauty of fading, of decay;

The cold, dismal beauty of death

and non-existence;

The beauty of

"The Flowers of Evil",

that's how Beaudelaire

called his poetry book.

Does any one have

any questions for me?

I asked you last time to read

Edgar Alan Poe's

story "The Black Cat".

It's a very short story.

Has anyone read it?

Please raise a hand.

You know what,

the hell with you!

- Hello

- Hello.

- Good afternoon.

- Good afternoon.

Greetings comrades!

Greetings, greetings!

Come on through, please do.

How are you, Tamik?

Not so bad, brother,

not so bad. And you?

Alright.

Don't, don't, I'm cold.

- Would you like your tea stronger?

- No, no, thanks, it's fine.

- You know what surprises me, Murik?

- What surprises you?

You have everything here,

but you don't have a clock.

He's as good as a clock himself.

An hour glass.

How's that?

The sands of time are

running out from him.

No, I just get along perfectly

well without a clock.

Aren't you late for work?

No, the clock is inside.

Everyone has a clock inside.

They forgot to wind mine up.

No, it's just that sometimes it runs

fast and sometimes it runs slow.

And sometimes it sticks

in one place.

Well, I want to live in harmony

with time. You see?

But people these days,

the people who populate the earth,

they've all gone mad,

they're all chasing time,

they want to catch it up,

they want to earn more...

It's chaos!

Universal chaos is beginning!

Friends!

Stop hurrying everywhere,

bring time to order!

Imagine they just turned

all the clocks off?

You're laughing again.

Would you like some more tea?

There's only one way

to stop this madness.

How's that?

The whole world must pray to God

that people will stop

their obscenity.

Profound, eh?

I'll tell you about obscenity.

We went fishing one time.

Everyone ran about

trying to snap up the best spots.

And I went off

with the lake warden.

We cut up some thin strips of meat

and I got out some chilled vodka...

and we sat in the shade

and said grace,

and drank and ate, and I cast

my line and fell asleep.

No one caught a thing, except me.

When they woke me up,

I hauld in my line and...

- A shoal of fish, yeah?

- Not a shoal, but there was a fish.

And what did you do with

this one fish, I wonder?

There were lots of you

weren't there?

- No, I gave it to the...

- To the warden?

To the warden? Well,

that was the right thing to do...

But, what has that got

to do with obscenity?

So, why are we so greedy?

Why do we grab all the best spots?

There's no need!

If God gives you something,

He gives it to you... or whatever...

You're right there. When God gives,

He gives it right into your hands.

And it's this love alone that

keeps the whole world together.

And the more a man

loses the sense of love,

the more warlike he becomes,

the more he wants to fight,

the more he wants to enslave.

Without love,

all that's left is obscenity.

That's negative information.

You turn on the television

and every day they tell you

that something has burned down...

You can't change it.

You mustn't watch it, you see?

- Watch the game!

- You've already lost.

- What's his obscenity?

- He's a teacher.

He should be an example to...

- Are you playing the game or what?

- I've practically won already.

You watch the game.

Pik, what's wrong with you?

Everything must

be paid for, eh, Pik?

Shell I open the window?

It's alright.

He just needs some hot tea.

Pik, here, drink your tea.

Pour some on his head.

It's alright!

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