Weekend Page #6
like the divine beauty of a bird.
Tell me, ancient ocean,
will you be my brother?
Ignorant of your secret destiny,
everything about you interests me.
Are you the abode
of the Prince of Darkness?
Tell me, ocean. You must tell me,
for I shall rejoice to know
that hell is so dose to men.
So once more I wish to greet you,
and bid my farewell.
Ancient ocean, I lack the power
to continue, it is the moment
to return to the brutal land of men.
Let us make a supreme effort
and, conscious of our duty,
fulfill our destiny on this earth.
Greetings, ancient ocean.
All right?
Yes!
- Please...
- Shut up!
- Let me stay with you.
- Too late.
Isabelle!
Don't wait for me.
Good-bye, Valrie.
Good-bye, Isabelle.
How happy I'd be if you knew
You, who I'm leaving tonight
That though it seems
everything's through
To others it seems it's all right
A smile, though the heart may be torn
Pretend that it's not past mending
Write the last word, so forlorn
Just a novel with an unhappy ending
JUMP CU When your foot slips on a frog,
you have a feeling of disgust.
But if you even lightly graze
a human body, your fingers fragment
like scales of mica
beneath hammer-blows.
Really?
And just as a shark's heart beats
for an hour after death,
so our guts throb
long after making love.
Why? I don't understand.
Because of man's immense horror
of his fellows.
Perhaps I may be wrong in this,
but perhaps I am right.
There must be a malady more terrible
than the swelling of eyes after
contemplating man's odd nature,
but I still seek it.
Well, Ernest?
- Not bad.
- Yes.
A mixture of pig and the leftovers
of the English tourists.
- Those from the Rolls?
- Yes.
There must be
a bit of your husband, too.
I'll have a bit more later, Ernest.
THE END:
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"Weekend" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 23 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/weekend_23197>.
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