The Tiger and the Snow

The Tiger And The Snow

Dear Attilio,

we are all gathered here together...

Who's the half-wit who left his car outside?

- That's mine.

- Well you can't leave it there

- Ten Minutes!

- Too long.

- Five!

- No more than five.

In five minutes I'm going to clamp you!

Gang of loonies, here every bloody night...

This woman has something to say to you.

Attilio De Giovanni,

I sing your name,

it opens the gates of Paradise.

You will be mine forever,

so grant me gods.

When you kiss me, the Four Horsemen

of the Apocalypse gallop forth

and when I think of your body,

so troubled and vague,

the ground opens beneath my feet.

Your divine manhood ascends to heaven,

you're beautiful!

You sunflower crazed by light,

when you raise your eyes you

set the sky ablaze.

Friends, see how the Earth,

like a mother,

gives suck to her most precious child.

Oh my beloved,

all creation overflows with passion,

and like a golden comet in the sky,

from my mouth burst forth this cry.

I love you.

I want to make love to you now.

That's the best line

I ever heard in my life.

Still not here?

No.

Here he is!

- On the dot!

- You're 20 minutes late, Daddy!

- Yes, 20 minutes on the dot.

- You couldn't find the car?

- Hi Carla, everything okay?

- Fine, thanks.

I have a programme and tomorrow

I'll have them at school at 9:00 sharp.

- At 8:
30!

- I know.

- I'll remind him.

- I'll remember all right!

Mamma doesn't trust you.

She doesn't trust me?

She doesn't trust you.

- Where are we going?

- A surprise!

- Sure I'm not hurting him?

- Course you are not.

Shall I wash his feet too?

I honestly couldn't care less.

Still the same guy, what's-his-name?

Yes, Francesco Verri,

he's not even in my class.

- The less I see him the better.

- Is he really that bad?

Very bad, hateful

- Hateful?

- Hateful.

- In other words, you love him.

- Yes.

- A lot?

- Lots and lots.

- Emilia, Daddy!

- Rosa!

Hang on!

- The best camel driver ever.

- What a fantastic present!

Thank the director here, thanks Camillo.

Now we're in Rome I hope

we'll see you more often.

- Want to have a go?

- Me?

- You're scared.

- Daddy's not scared of anything.

He's all right?

- Does he spit?

- No.

This is great,

how do you get him to stand up?

It's twice as high as a horse!

No seat belt!

How about that then, eh?

Just when I'm on a camel!

Attorney!

You've got the hearing this morning.

For the furniture you shouldn't have sold,

ignoring a summons back in '98...

I can't right now, can we do it tomorrow?

You've got to be here within three minutes

or they'll sentence you!

Three minutes, make that two!

Down, boy.

Slowly.

Ubruk!

How about that?

Camels may be smelly, but they're smart.

- What's that?

- A bat!

Get down, keep down!

It's casing the joint,

let's see what it's up to!

Let's get under the bed.

Go away, beastly bat!

Don't say that.

You'll offend it if you call it a beastly bar,

you've got to be nice.

Oh bat, sweet creature of the night,

you'll find the window on your right!

"What luck!"

That's what poetry's all about,

you called it a beastly bat...

It always works.

I was shaving in the bathroom yesterday.

A spider climbed in

and I said to it,

"Spider dear, get out of here".

- It went!

- And if you find a mouse?

"Mr. Mouse, leave this house"

then run for it.

Will you teach me to write nice poems?

How did you become a poet?

How do you start?

I was small, younger than you are now,

eight or nine.

I was with my mother,

I loved her so much...

We were at Uncle Giustino's

and there was a wood.

- Do you know what happened?

- What?

A little bird flew by,

singing, flying lower...

and lower.

He landed right here on my shoulder.

I swear!

He'd chosen me, of all people.

I was afraid he'd fly away,

so I pretended to be a tree,

I didn't move a muscle.

I started to feel my heart beating,

thumping actually.

- And then?

- It flew away.

I wanted to tell my mother.

"Mamma, a little bird, flying and singing...

landed on my shoulder

and sat there for an hour."

She said, "I thought something awful happened"

and carried on chatting.

That was mean of Granny,

didn't she like birds?

No, Granny wasn't mean,

and she did like little birds.

It wasn't her, it was me.

It was my fault for not telling

the story properly,

for not making her feel what I'd felt.

I was so upset I told myself,

"There must be people whose job

it is to use the right words,

put things in a way...

who when their hearts beats,

can get other people's hearts to beat."

That day I decided to become a poet.

- My heart beat.

- Mine too, but Granny's didn't.

If the words aren't right, nothing's right.

If I say now, "go to sleep",

those are the right words.

- And if another bat comes in?

- Off to bed with you.

I've got to get you to school

at 9:
00 tomorrow.

At 8:
30!

I know.

Oh my beloved,

all creation overflows with passions,

and like a golden comet in the sky,

from my mouth bursts forth this cry,

I love you!

My love, I want to stay

with you here forever,

for all eternity.

Don't you have to take

the girls to school at 8:30?

Give me five minutes, be right back.

You don't remember

where I left the car, do you?

- Same bloody car parked outside...

- It's mine, I'll move it.

Five minutes.

Come along, don't hang around,

take your time.

Don't start writing love poems,

they're the hardest,

wait till you're at least 80.

Write about something else, the sea,

the wind, a radiator,

a tram running late,

no one thing's more poetic than another.

Poetry isn't without, it's within.

Don't ask what's poetic or true,

look in the mirror, poetry's you.

Dress your poems up,

choose your words carefully,

be selective, some things you need

eight months to find one word.

Beauty started when people began to choose,

since Adam and Eve.

You know how long Eve took

to pick the right fig leaf?

How about this one? She stripped bare

all the fig trees in Paradise.

Fall in love,

if you don't love it's all dead!

Fall in love and

everything will come to life.

Squander your joy,

dissipate your cheerfulness.

be sad and silent with enthusiasm,

hurl your happiness into people's faces.

And how? Let me look at my notes,

I've forgotten.

That's what you should do.

I can't read 'em.

To convey happiness you must be happy,

to convey pain you must to happy.

Be happy, you must suffer!

Don't be scared of suffering,

the whole world suffers!

If you don't have the means, don't worry,

only one thing is necessary

to write poetry, everything.

Don't try to be modern,

it's the most old-fashioned thing there is.

If a line doesn't come to

you in this position,

chuck yourself on the ground like this!

It's lying down that you see the sky.

Why didn't I do that before?

What are you looking at?

Poets don't look, they see.

Make words obey you.

If the world "wall"

doesn't take any notice,

don't use it again for eight years,

that'll teach it.

What's that? No idea!

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes