Tous les soleils Page #2

That's rotauto.

I really through.

You give lessons?

- Yes, the history of the Baroque.

Sole, rock. Johnny Hallyday...

- No, baroque. That is a little earlier.

Oh, but I also love.

I like going out,

I like to eat with friends.

You play a sport?

- I jog occasionally. I have to go.

On asphalt? In nature?

In nature.

- I.

See you soon.

Please come visit us.

Sure.

I did not.

No, I'm not.

- You're going to do. That's up to me.

I have an appointment.

If need be I drag you along.

It's for your own good.

- You need yourself a psychologist.

I?

- Do you see you.

A father

with a dead woman alive.

An uncle who just

to look stupid chicks in soap operas.

Moderate your tone.

- I am embarrassed.

A different tone, yes.

My friends think

that you are queers.

That puts you paid me.

I've beaten her.

What a jerk. I've beaten her.

Are you that stupid broads not Sat?

What wrong with you?

You can fall for someone who is not

the same books or music.

Shut up. But someone who does not

of wine is, it simply can not.

The first sausages.

Lithuania has set no wine.

So what? An Icelandic colleague drinking

Every night Cotes du Rhone.

There is no grape grown in Iceland.

- I agree.

But wine or not,

Lithuanian is a piece of you.

What the hell, Dieter?

- That said, your Jean-Paul himself.

Did you know?

- What?

We go to the barn?

Whole or decompose?

I want two.

- You start with one.

Siddhartha, shut up at you.

Good name for a dog quiet.

He is in heat. Have you never?

Mom, Dad! The roof!

Everything collapses.

Do you have anything? Really?

Holy sh*t.

Keep your distance.

No, stay here.

Damn it.

I told the bar consumption

had to be replaced?

Gerhard he was still good.

- He's cook, not a bar expert.

You know that jerk a lot.

- You do it?

Calm down it.

They were dead.

- But they're not.

Shut up, Siddhartha. Now.

To burn the sausages.

- Oh...

The sausages?

Bunch of a**holes.

You bastards.

Mr. Bertaud?

Hello.

Alessandro Regazzoni

of 'Words Connect'.

Are you okay?

May I?

I'll read you some.

I have some books with me.

You can say what you want to hear.

Hot here. Do not you hot?

Would you like a glass of water?

A writer from my home region,

Northern Veneto.

Mario Rigoni Stern called him. He writes

about the war, memories...

and over the mountains.

Snow in January.

With his right arm

He relied on the sled.

His left arm was under his coat.

When he was hit

the ball...

he felt only a dry tap,

like a stone.

Yes?

Have you nothing more erotic?

Not with me. I'm sorry.

She has just fallen asleep.

- Hello, Yasmina.

She has a tough night.

You say I've been?

I'm back Thursday.

You do not look happy.

Yesterday we signed.

I am now a free woman.

Or a woman dumped.

It depends.

Who does not.

Dust everywhere.

L'Express... July 5, 2006.

Le Point... November 13, 2008.

Free magazines, free magazines.

Marie Claire... in April 2000.

Irina Regazzoni?

- That's me.

That's us. That's it, my daughter.

There is increasing distance. In all

what I was trying to say...

fold them closed.

Although she has grown physically hard,

it is of course a child.

A child in a woman's body.

A woman's body?

- Yeah, look.

What do you think, Irina?

Would you give us a show?

I do not know

if your daughter needs me.

But perhaps you yourself

talking with a colleague.

Often, parents have more problems

of puberty than the children themselves.

You're not serious.

You will find that she has grown, but

she has the body of a 12-year-old.

And you treat her like a baby.

I guess they mentally

and emotionally right for feasibility.

You yourself problems. They do not.

What nonsense.

Baloney.

Your opinions are just as outdated

the sheets in your waiting room.

Scandalous.

Day, beauty.

- What are you doing?

I hid them.

- You always paint the same.

Will not you sell?

- No.

A guy wants everything in Zurich

buy from me.

Well?

- I read his letters disagree.

There's your father.

Good weekend.

flute, whistle, flute

I challenge you, out, out

loud, loud, loud

I challenge you, out, out

life, love

as a kilo of fruit

press out, out, out

and drink the cup out, out, out

Not funny?

It is for your age.

I asked something.

Irina, answer.

- Because you love that stuff means?

What?

Hi, sweetie.

Are you okay?

- You look beautiful.

Hi, sweetie.

Give it your bag.

- You eat with us?

No, I'm busy. I must return.

You got a bit?

How are you?

Irina whether you?

- Both a bit.

He means well. He is happy to

to see you, but thinking back to...

I thought the time...

Time does not change anything.

The time...

The time is always

as an excuse.

When do you get the little girl?

- Sunday.

Against seven well?

- I will make a delicious cake.

Sandro?

Yourself why so gloom?

I just found this band.

You find that tape every month.

Sandro... I also liked Louise.

But you can not continue until you die.

What do you mean, 'so'?

- Only.

You're alone.

- That's different. I'm in the resistance.

Warriors are always alone.

Che was never married.

Oh no?

- Never.

Are you sure?

- No.

What do you want?

That we, as Irina is out the door,

and two old bags behind?

What was she was little.

I want's somewhere else.

He sees his childhood friends there.

But I'm nobody.

They do not speak Italian, but

a dialect, just like here in Alsace.

It is important to him.

- Yes, but...

You have the same gestures.

- What do you mean?

What you just did with you hair.

Louise did too.

Do you hate it when I say that?

Would not you want me to talk about your mother?

I did not know, she's been around for centuries

death, and yet it takes a lot of space.

Do you realize what you're saying?

I want to live

and this is so oppressive.

Where I put that beast?

- You know that. At the sink.

Regazzoni, I must speak.

Try the exams

more strict assessment.

I try to be righteous.

- Yes, yes.

Your figures are always higher

than that of your colleagues.

It takes us days to agents.

I'm counting on you.

You betray anyone, Alessandro.

There is no question of betrayal,

but...

But space.

Somewhere there is Louise.

Like she... Like she is waiting for me.

Do you like them waiting for you?

I think so.

You know, Agathe?

You may know.

There are occasional women in my life.

But I feel nothing.

So it makes no sense.

The dead are stronger than us.

They have a whole life ahead of her.

But absent is worse.

From them we have more problems

than the dead.

Why do you say?

Anyway, at your age is

immoral to love to give.

So you stop it.

See how he looks at you?

- He looks at you.

No, look.

- Moreover, he is ugly.

Ugly? You have to wear glasses to.

Is he new?

- Yes, since two weeks.

He is thick with Juju and Bouzou.

You know that Sonia

I swear it. She knows him

through a dating site.

You know, for old people.

- Jasses, it is as old as us.

She is also proud.

See that? I told you?

- Stop it.

He looks at you.

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