by Abbas Kiarostami (1999)
The Wind Will Carry Us 其實節錄自伊郎女詩人Forough Farrokhzad的一首詩, 出現於片中主角無光線的山洞中取牛奶一段:
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Engineer: Okay, I’ll recite a poem to you. [pause]
It will occupy us while you milk. [pause]
You won’t answer me?
Girl: [milking cow by the light of the lamp] Go ahead.
Engineer: I was saying that… [pause]
In my night, so brief, alas
The wind is about to meet the leaves.
[breaks off]
Do you understand that?
Girl: The two are meeting.
Engineer: It’s like when you went to see Yossef. [pause] At the well.
Girl: At the well?
Engineer: Bravo. [Pause]
My night so brief is filled with devastating anguish.
Hark! Do you hear the whisper of the shadows? [breaks off]
Do you understand the shadows?
Girl: That means darkness.
Engineer: [recites slowly]
This happiness feels foreign to me.
l am accustomed to despair.
Hark! Do you hear the whisper of the shadows?
There, in the night, something is happening.
The moon is red and anxious.
And, clinging to this roof that could collapse at any moment,
The clouds, like a crowd of mourning women,
Await the birth of the rain,
One second, and then nothing.
Behind this window, the night trembles,
And the earth stops spinning.
Behind this window, a stranger
Worries about you and me.
You, in your greenery,
Lay your hands - those burning memories -
On my loving hands
And entrust your lips, replete with life ’s warmth,
To the touch of my loving lips.
Girl: [referring to the milk] It’s full.
Engineer: The wind will carry us
Life and death is so foreign to me, but the wind will carry us.
Full version( my favourite one)
a poem by the famous 20th century woman poet, Forough Farrokhzād.
In my night, so brief, alas
The wind is about to meet the leaves.
My night so brief is filled with devastating anguish
Hark! Do you hear the whisper of the shadows?
This happiness feels foreign to me.
I am accustomed to despair.
Hark! Do you hear the whisper of the shadows?
There, in the night, something is happening
The moon is red and anxious.
And, clinging to this roof
That could collapse at any moment,
The clouds, like a crowd of mourning women,
Await the birth of the rain.
One second, and then nothing.
Behind this window,
The night trembles
And the earth stops spinning.
Behind this window, a stranger
Worries about me and you.
You in your greenery,
Lay your hands – those burning memories –
On my loving hands.
And entrust your lips, replete with life’s warmth,
To the touch of my loving lips
The wind will carry us!
The wind will carry us!
Behzad remarks that some people assert that after one dies, one goes to a better place. But the doctor points out that noone has ever come back to verify such tales; it is better to get the most of this world, the one in which we are alive. He then quotes a quatrain from Omar Khayyam’s Rubaiyait:
They tell me the other world is as beautiful as a houri from heaven!
Yet I say that the juice of the vine is better.
Prefer the present to those fine promises.
Even a drum sounds melodious from afar.
