"(Men Shouting)" "(Chattering, Shouting)" "(Chattering Continues)" "No, there's no water, Dad." "It's all gone since this morning." "I wanted to rinse my hands, too." "All gone." "Is it still warm?" "I've got the sniffles this morning!" "It must have been the dampness on the boat." "I only have to set foot on that boat..." "Perhaps I'm allergic." "Even if the boat's not moving, the dampness gets to me." "I don't know how you can stay on it all night... and not catch a thing." "The minute I get on..." "I've received a postcard from America, Dad... from Gaetano and Alfredo." "This is America around the outside... and this is an American car." "They say they're going to buy one, too." "It's written here:" ""We're buying one"." "But I think they're joking... because they cost a load of money." "But they say it's a rich country... where there's work, a country..." "And we're still here... without water... while they're..." "Forget it, never mind." "Listen, Mario, you've never liked fishing." "I've caught a chill." "Go to America or Japan if you want to... but get yourself a job." "You're not a kid any more." "(Woman Calls)" "(Discussion Between Man And Woman)" ""The poet, Pablo Neruda, in Rome"" "(Presenter) 'Central Station." "'A group of rowdy people has inconvenienced the travellers... 'who crowd the station platforms every day." "'These protesters..." " 'are not drunkards... ' - (Chattering)" "'Nor the usual hotheads who protest just for the fun of it." "'They are a group of intellectuals, writers and journalists." "'Why have they joined together, shouting... 'disturbing the police and Carabinieri?" "'The mystery is revealed when the train arrives." "'Pablo Neruda gets out at Rome station... 'the Chilean poet known throughout the world for his poetry... 'and his communist ideas which have often got him into trouble... 'and for which he has now been exiled." "'The poet appears to be well-Ioved in Italy... 'and, judging by the enthusiastic embrace of this woman... 'not only for his moral gifts." "'Women go crazy for his poetry... 'maybe because Neruda writes love poems... 'a topic which appeals to the female sensibility." "'But let's go back to our noisy crowd." "'The Home Office has accepted their protest... 'by suspending the measures against Neruda... 'requested by the Chilean government." "'The poet will remain in Italy... 'on a wonderful island." "'He will not be able to leave without police authority... 'but the island's beauty will make exile easier.'" "That's me!" "'The poet will have happy memories of Italy and her government... 'which is hosting him in a place which will remind him of home." "'This cosy house surrounded by nature... 'will certainly make him feel at home.'" ""Wanted:" "Temporary Postman with Bicycle"" "(Inaudible)" "(Bell Tolling)" "(Man) You, Anita Scotto, are the sender." "This is your son's name, right?" "(Mario) I've come about the job." "Right, wait." "And this is the city." "Are you sending him capers?" "He'll be pleased." "Are you illiterate?" "No, I can read and write." "Not very fast, but..." "Sit down." "I need someone to deliver mail to Cala di Sotto." "That's great." "I live there." "There's only one addressee." "Only one?" "Everyone else there is illiterate." "I'm not illiterate, but still..." "Well, then." "It's all mail for signor Pablo Neruda." "The poet loved by women?" "The poet loved by the people!" "By the people, but also by women." "I heard it on the newsreel." "All right, but most of all by the people." "He's a communist." "Right?" "The poet has received a mountain of mail these last two days." "Pedalling with the bag is like carrying an elephant on your back." "I'll wait here." "I'll be right with you." "The wage is a pittance, you know." "Postmen make do with their tips." "But with only one house... at most it'll pay for your cinema once a week." " That's fine." " It suits you anyway." "My name's Giorgio." "I'm your superior, and you should call me sir." "But I won't hold you to it, because I'm a communist, too." "And remember... the poet... is a great and kind person." "He deserves respect." "You say hello, you thank him." "If he tips you, you thank him again." " Right?" " Yes, right." "This is your hat." "This is your bag." "Today's the 15th." "Your first payday's the 27th." "When do you start?" "Monday morning." "6:45, I open the shutters." "Then the public comes later." "Are you in uniform already?" "No, I'm just wearing the hat." "That way it'll take its shape better... or I'll get a headache wearing it all day." "The boss told me it's a postman's trick." "A little trick of ours." "(Bicycle Bell Ringing)" " Good morning." " Good morning." "Your mail." "(Woman Calling)" "(Speaking Spanish)" "(Neruda Calls)" " Thank you." " Thank you." "Another one from a female." "Female." "Maria Conchita, female." "Angela, female." "Jean Marie, is that male or female?" " Female!" " I knew it!" "This one, too." "Even the women are interested in politics in Chile!" "I know, but all females..." "How come?" "Listen... about Don Pablo... what's he like?" " Is he normal?" " As a person, as..." "Normal." "Of course, he talks differently." "You can tell immediately from..." "Know what he calls his wife?" ""Amor"!" "Even if he's standing far away... they call each other "amor"." " Really?" " He's a poet." "That's how you can tell." "Female." "(Rings Bell)" "Good morning." " Thank you." " Thank you." "(Mario) Excuse me... if you happen to need anything... milk, bread, I can..." "No, thank you." "Matilde goes shopping every day." "If ever she doesn't want to go out, you can ask me." "I come and go." "We don't need anything." "Thanks anyway." "I mean, if by any chance..." "Good day." "And remember, Mario... you mustn't bother him with a lot of questions." "It's forbidden to annoy customers with strange requests." "I know, I won't annoy him." "I'll only ask him to sign this book, that's all." "So when I get paid, I'll go to Naples... and show all the girls... that I'm a friend of Neruda, the poet of love!" "The poet of the people!" "Excuse me, could you sign this?" "Please, could you sign this?" "(Clears Throat)" "Would you make it unique, maestro?" "Would you make it unique, maestro?" "My name's Mario Ruoppolo." "Thank you." " And my mail?" " There isn't any." "Come on, Mario, you should be happy." "Happy?" "I told him quite clearly, Mario Ruoppolo." ""Regards, Pablo Neruda."" "It means nothing." "You don't think he can cross it out and write it better... so you can see it's for me, that we're friends?" "Do you think he'd cross it out because you don't like it... and write you another?" "Perhaps he did it on purpose because you bothered him." "No, I asked him." "He was staring at the mountain." " Exactly, you see?" " No, I know the mountain... but he was holding an onion." "So you think a poet can't think when he's holding an onion, eh?" "When am I supposed to ask him, then... if I can't ask him when he's peeling an onion?" "He's a busy man." "He can't be running after people to make them happy." "Yes, but he's a communist." "So what?" "Didn't you say that communists love the people?" "Mario, don't make me annoyed!" "I bought a copy of the book." "When you have the chance... with extreme tact... ask him if he would sign it for me." "Sign it?" "Take this one, then." ""Regards, Pablo Neruda."" "No, this is yours." "He signed it for you." " I'm happy to let you have it." " No!" "(Men Shouting, Chattering)" "(Shouting, Chattering)" "Mr Di Cosimo, shall I empty all the water?" "All of it, all of it." "'Morning." "Mr Di Cosimo... what can I do to thank you?" "Your wreath was the nicest." "Nothing, Donna Rosa." "Just vote and get others to vote." "Remember to use that little pencil of yours." "And hopefully some of your customers will, too." ""...happens that I go into the tailors' shops and the movies..." ""all shrivelled up..." ""impenetrable, like a felt swan..." ""navigating on a water of origin and ash." ""The smell of barber shops makes me sob out loud..." ""I am tired of being a man..."" "(Bicycle Bell)" "Mail." " Thank you." " Thank you." "What's the matter?" "Don Pablo?" "You're standing as stiff as a post!" "Nailed like a spear?" "No, immobile like the castle on a chess board." "Stiller than a porcelain cat." "Elementary Odes isn't the only book I've written." "I've written much better." "It's unfair of you to shower me with similes and metaphors." "Don Pablo?" "Metaphors." "What are those?" "Metaphors?" "Metaphors are..." "How can I explain?" "When you talk of something, comparing it to another." "Is it something... you use in poetry?" "Yes, that too." "For example?" "For example... when you say, "the sky weeps," what do you mean?" "That it's raining." "Yes, very good." " That's a metaphor." " It's easy, then!" "Why has it got such a complicated name?" "Man has no business... with the simplicity or complexity of things." "Excuse me, Don Pablo, then I'll go." "I was reading something yesterday:" ""The smell of barber shops makes me sob out loud."" "Is that a metaphor, too?" "No... not exactly." "I liked it, too, when... when you wrote:" ""I am tired of being a man."" "That's happened to me, too... but I never knew how to say it." "I really liked it when I read it." "Why "the smell of barber shops makes me sob"?" "You see, Mario..." "I can't tell you... in words different from those I've used." "When you explain it, poetry becomes banal." "Better than any explanation... is the experience of feelings that poetry can reveal... to a nature open enough to understand it." "Will you open this, please?" " Who, me?" " Yes." " Shall I open it?" " Yes!" "My hands are dirty." "It's written in..." "It's foreign." "Is it more important than the others?" "Yes, it's from Sweden." "What's so special about Sweden?" "The Nobel Prize for Literature." "A prize, then?" "If they give it to me, I won't refuse." "Why?" "How much money is it?" "171,135 Swedish krona." "I've no idea, is that a lot?" "Lots and lots!" "Then you'll get it." "There are candidates with a better chance than me this year." "Why?" "Because they've written important works." "No... you'll get it, I'm sure." "Thank you." "Shall I open the other letters?" "No, I'll read them later." "Are they love letters?" "What a question!" "Don't let Matilde hear you." "I'm sorry, Don Pablo." "I only meant..." "I'd like to be a poet, too." "No, it's more original being a postman." "You get to walk a lot and don't get fat." "We poets are all fat." "Yes, but... with poetry..." "I could make women fall for me." "How..." "How do you become a poet?" "Try and walk slowly along the shore as far as the bay... and look around you." "And will they come to me, these metaphors?" "Certainly." "Don Pablo!" "Mario, can you send someone to see about this problem with the water?" "Have you got water?" "No, that's exactly the problem." "That's no problem at all!" "Why?" "Is it normal?" "It's normal." "You've run out of water... up at the cistern." "Do you use a lot of water?" "No, just what I need." "Then that's too much." "Because... it runs out all of a sudden because the water-supply ship... comes only once a month, so the water gets used up." "We've got..." "They've been saying we'll get running water... for ages." ""You'll have running water." But..." "And you don't protest?" "What do we say?" "My father swears every so often... but... only to himself." "There are people who, with a strong will, manage to change things." "It's a pity." "This place is so beautiful!" "Think so?" "Yes." "Sit down." "Here on the island, the sea... so much sea." "It spills over from time to time." "It says yes, then no... then no." "In blue, in foam, in a gallop... it says no, then no." "It cannot be still." "My name is sea, it repeats... striking a stone but not convincing it." "Then with the seven green tongues of seven green tigers... of seven green seas... it caresses it, kisses it, wets it... and pounds on its chest, repeating its own name." "Well?" "What do you think?" "It's weird." "What do you mean, weird?" " You're a severe critic." " No, not your poem." "Weird..." "Weird... how I felt while you were saying it." "How was that?" "I don't know." "The words went back and forth." " Like the sea, then?" " Exactly." " Like the sea." " There, that's the rhythm." "I felt seasick, in fact." "Because..." "I can't explain it." "I felt like... like a boat tossing around on those words." "Like a boat tossing around on my words?" "Do you know what you've done, Mario?" " No, what?" " You've invented a metaphor." " Yes, you have!" " Really?" "But it doesn't count because I didn't mean to." "Meaning to is not important." "Images arise spontaneously." "You mean, then that... for example, I don't know if you follow me... that the whole world... the whole world, with the sea, the sky... with the rain, the clouds..." "Now you can say etc., etc." "Etc., etc." "The whole world is the metaphor for something else?" " I'm talking crap." " No, not at all." "Not at all." "You pulled a strange face." "Mario, let's make a pact." "I'll have a nice swim... and ponder your question." "Then I'll give you an answer tomorrow." " Really?" " Yes, really." "(Bell Tolling, Woman Singing)" "(Rattling)" "(Ball Rattles In Goal)" "(Ball Rattles In Goal)" "(Ball Rattles In Goal)" "(Cock Crows)" "Don Pablo, good morning." "I've got to talk to you." "It must be very important." "You're snorting like a horse." "It's very important." " I've fallen in love." " Nothing serious." "There's a remedy." "No, no remedy!" "I don't want a remedy." "I want to stay sick." "I'm in love, really, really in love." "Who are you in love with?" "Her name's Beatrice." "Dante." "Don Pablo?" "Dante Alighieri." "He fell for a certain Beatrice." "Beatrices have inspired boundless love." "What are you doing?" "Writing down the name Dante." "Dante I know, but Alighieri..." " Has it got an "h" in it?" " Wait, I'll write it for you." "Thank you." "I'm madly in love." "You've already told me that, but what can I do about it?" "I don't know, if you can help..." "But I'm an old man." "I don't know, because..." "I suddenly saw her in front of me." "I stared at her, but I couldn't utter a word." "What, you didn't say anything to her?" "Not much." " I watched her and fell in love." " Just like that?" "In a flash?" "No, I stared at her for ten minutes first." "And she?" "And she said..." "What's up, never seen a woman before?" "What's your name?" "Beatrice Russo." "(Inaudible)" "And you?" "I couldn't think of anything to say." "Nothing at all?" " You didn't say a word?" " Not exactly nothing." "I said five words to her." "Which were?" "I said, "What's your name?"" " And she?" " And she: "Beatrice Russo"." ""What's your name?" are three words." "And the other two?" "Then I repeated Beatrice Russo." "Don Pablo, if..." "I don't want to bother you, but... can you write me a poem for Beatrice?" "I don't even know her!" "A poet needs to know the object of his inspiration!" "I can't invent something out of nothing." "I've got this little ball... which Beatrice put in her mouth." "She's touched it." "So what?" "It might help you." "Look, Poet... if you make all this fuss over one poem... you're never going to win that Nobel Prize!" "Mario, pinch me and wake me from this nightmare!" "What am I supposed to do?" "No one else can help me." "They're all fishermen here!" "What am I supposed to do?" "Fishermen fall in love, too!" "They are able to talk to the girls they love... to make them fall in love, too, and marry them." " What does your father do?" " He's a fisherman." "Naturally!" "He must have spoken to your mother to get her to marry him." "I don't think so." "He doesn't talk much." "Come on, give me my mail." "Thank you, but I don't want it." "(Chattering)" "(Distant Dog Barking)" "(Women Shouting, Chattering)" " Do you want anything else?" " No, thanks." "Beatrice, your smile spreads like a butterfly." "Fallen out of bed this morning?" "I came earlier because..." "I saw this." "It looks important." "You're right, it is important." "And then... there's something else..." "I've been meaning to give you but kept forgetting." " I'll put it here." "Goodbye." " Wait a minute." "I've got something for you, too." "Here." "It might be useful for your metaphors." "Is it a radio?" "No, but it's a kind of radio." "You speak into here... and this repeats what you say." "You speak into it and it repeats what you say?" "Yes." " How many times?" " As many times as you want." "But you mustn't overdo it." "Even the most sublime idea seems foolish if heard too often." "Listen." "(# Latin Folk)" "(Man Speaking Spanish)" "(Turns Off Tape)" "Good news?" "When I was Senator of the Republic..." "I went to visit the Pampas... a region where it only rains once every 50 years... where life is unimaginably hard." "I wanted to meet the people who had voted for me." "One day... at Lota, there was a man who had come up from a coal mine." "He was a mask of coal dust and sweat... his face... contorted by terrible hardship... his eyes red from the dust." "He stretched out his calloused hand and said:" ""Wherever you go..." ""speak of this torment." ""Speak of your brother who lives underground..." ""in hell."" "I felt I had to write something to help man in his struggle... to write the poetry of the mistreated." "That's how "Canto General" came about." "Now my comrades... tell me they have managed to get it published secretly in Chile... and it's selling like hot cakes." "That makes me very happy." "(Speaking Spanish)" "(Neruda)..." "Mario Ruoppolo... (Inaudible)" "I told them I'm here with a friend who wishes to say hello." "And tell them something nice about this beautiful country." "Yes." " Good morning." " No, in there." "Something nice about the island?" "Yes, one of the wonders of your island." "Beatrice Russo." "Now let's go to the inn... and meet this famous Beatrice Russo." "Are you joking?" "No, I'm serious." "Let's have a look at this girlfriend." "Mamma mia!" "Pablo Neruda and Mario Ruoppolo at the inn." "She'll faint!" "Well?" "What is it now?" "Don Pablo, when I get married to Beatrice Russo... will you be my best man?" "Listen... first let's have a drink, then we'll decide." "Gennarino, wait!" "I'm coming, too!" "Domenico, come here or I'll thrash you!" "Look who's here." "Neruda!" "Good morning." "(# Soft Jazz)" "What will it be?" "A glass of red wine, please." "And the pinball king?" " Do you want red wine, too?" " Red wine, yes." "Two glasses of red wine and a pen to write with." "He's here for your niece." "Give me the notebook." "Notebook?" "Why?" "Thank you." "Thank you." "Just a moment." ""To Mario, my intimate friend and comrade" " Pablo Neruda""