Repentance " Movie Play Text/[Su] Nana Geanielizai, Chingis Abradze, Levaz Kviselava
Translated/Dai Guangxi
Editor's Note: " Repentance " is a famous Soviet writer and director The third installment of Chingis Ablaze's trilogy ("The Pleading," "The Tree of Wishes," and "Repentance"). Filming was completed at the Georgian Film Studio in 1984, and the film premiered in Moscow in early 1987. "Repentance" aroused strong repercussions both inside and outside the Soviet Union. In May, it won three awards at the 40th Cannes Film Festival in France: the Special Jury Prize, the International Critic Award and the United Church Jury Award. Ablaze said that his film is not just about a specific person, or only about the 1930s, the film has a broader and deeper meaning. This is a film about violence, about the abhorrence of violence. For the film, Ablaze strived for a "fluttering" style. In fact, the symbolism and surrealism of "The Remorse" has long been Ablazee's distinctive film style. He said that he was not born to make prose films and that his films were poetic, romantic and full of charming charm. He also said: "I hope this film will play a positive role." Now the literary script of the film "Repentance", which has attracted attention both at home and abroad, is translated and introduced to readers for research and reference.
An old corner of the provincial capital. Out of nowhere came a soft guitar sound: someone was playing an old waltz. A four-horse cabriolet clattered its hooves through the road, and stopped beside a hut.
A beautiful young woman in a rich brocade dress got down from the cabriolet, climbed gracefully into a small chair that had been set up there, and began to knock on the window.
Katie Bartieri appeared at the window with a large, beautiful cake in her hands, and with the usual smile on her face, handed it to the customer who ordered it.
The convertible drove away. There was silence in the street, and the sad waltz came again.
Katie Barazzeri's tiny apartment is filled with colorful, mythical and wondrous cakes, topped with creamed chapels and crucifixes on their domes. The owner of this simply furnished apartment was a young woman with a fine, tired face. Katie Barazzeri's three hands skillfully made golden crosses, emerald-green church domes, and bright red roses.
A man in a French-style military top without epaulets (named after the British Field Marshal French. - Translator's Note) sits comfortably in an easy chair, this is Katie's neighbor , he was greedily shoving the creamy church dome into his mouth. Suddenly his eyes fell on a portrait in the newspaper circled in a black frame.
"My God, how unfortunate!" he cried, raising his hand to give a pat.
"What's the matter? Apollon!"
"What a great man we have lost! My God, my God!"
"Is he your relative?"
"More than relative! I don't have a friend closer than him!" the guest cried while eating.
Katie put on her glasses and began to look at the portrait in the newspaper with interest. A shadow of surprise crossed her face.
"You're lucky..." she said meaningfully.
"My happiness is over, dear Varlam is dead!"
"Anyway you are lucky, because you know a man like him..." The
spacious, gleaming plain white hall filled bright red dianthus flowers. In the center of the hall lies the coffin of Varram Aravidze, the body of a former important dignitary. On the wall hangs an enlarged photograph of the deceased, enclosed in black tape.
Next to the coffin stood the deceased's next of kin: his son Averi Alavidze, who, like his father, was at the height of his power; Averi's wife, the beautiful Gurico, and the deceased's only Grandson - seventeen-year-old Tornikay. Around them stood their friends.
The faces of those who came to the funeral showed a ceremonial grief, but their personal dignity was not completely replaced by grief, on the contrary, due to the significance of the ongoing burial of a great man, But it makes the dignity of such a person even more prominent. Only Tornicay's eyes showed the sadness and grief that came from the heart.
many people. There was an endless stream of people who came to offer condolences. Everyone tried to prove their solidarity with this tragic event, which struck not only the Alavidze family, but the whole city, and possibly the whole country, because it was not just the head of the family who died, But a great man of state affairs.
A line of dignitaries who expressed deep condolences and sympathy swept past Avery. As far as flattery and flattery are concerned, they strive to outsmart the other, saying to Avery:
"We will never have such a city lord again, never again!"
"What kind of one have we lost? Man!"
"What a loss!"
"My condolences!" said a tall, fat man to Avery, shaking his hand. "Why didn't he bury him in the Banjian Cemetery? He must have let him? Well done, Vallam! He was always very modest."
"Vallam is not dead, no!" Apollon in the crowd shouted: "his soul here, with us, his soul wandering in the air, we feel it's there!"
Avi was a friend of mine came rushing towards him, in his ears He whispered something. The expression on Avery's face suddenly became tense.
"Come." He excitedly told the condolences.
There was a panicked murmur from the crowd. Everyone tried to tidy up their appearance better, and they held their breath waiting for the arrival of an important VIP.
A bearded, oddly-dressed dwarf entered the hall, accompanied by four burly guards. All respectfully made way for the dwarf and his entourage.
"Thank you very much, Saint Shelter, it is an honor for you to be here in person." Averi bent over and bowed to him.
"Long live our benefactor Cerezo!" cried Apollon, who stood on tiptoe and stretched himself so that he might be seen in the crowd. "Drum for him, gentlemen!"
everyone drummed up. The little Zerezzo was immersed in the atmosphere of his warm welcome, and after a while, with a solemn gesture, he calmed the emotional people, and took from his waistcoat pocket a prepared The text of his speech read:
"Ladies and gentlemen! In a few minutes the farewell bell will ring, and we will bury the great son of the motherland, a man with a noble soul, shining wisdom and a kind heart, who was Loved and deeply respected by all Vallam Alavidze! Many of you must have noticed the deeply inspiring wise inscription left on the wreath by the friends of the deceased. This The inscription expresses the thoughts and feelings of each of us: 'A dead man is sometimes better than a thousand living ones'... The merits of the beloved Vallam are too many to go into. But there is one merit I cannot fail to mention : He has a special talent, he can turn enemies into friends, friends into enemies! Yes, this is the characteristic of a man who is extraordinary!" Celezzo raised his eyes and was silent for a while, touching his heart. Di read:
This coffin is like a Swedish table,
parked in the spacious hall.
Faces disappeared in the unclean mirror...
but not dead! . . . there is only
a sudden change in the body of sin and the fear of dying.
"Rest in peace, tireless laborer! May the soil of your homeland bring you peace!"
All those who reverently listened to the eulogy of the dwarf Zerezo sang loudly and forcefully the ode to their homeland. An oath of loyalty to the cause of the deceased.
The funeral begins.
Wreaths and flower baskets were moved out of the Aravize's splendid residence: many bright red dianthus flowers were seen flickering out of the open door, and moved to fountains, pavilions, lawns and gardens. In the courtyard of the conservatory. People holding statues, followed by caskets in their raised hands, and a long line of funerals, ascended the marble steps to the cemetery.
People filled the tomb with earth.
The Alavidze family: Averi, Gurico, and Tornikay leave the cemetery. Following them were four of Avery's best friends:
"He's gone," said a friend as thin as a dried fish as the actor recited, "another man will come to this prosperous world . . . "..."
"It's like this, it's like this..." A sturdy fat man echoed, causing everyone to laugh out loud.
The night passed, and the sky was bright.
There was silence in Alavidze's house. Only Gurico's bedroom was still lit. Gurico was applying balm to a mirror mounted on the wall between the two windows. Avery was smoking a cigarette in bed.
"Why didn't your lover come to the cemetery?" Gurico asked with a mocking grin.
"Don't talk stupid!" said Avery, frowning.
"However, she didn't come, and everything passed smoothly." Guliko said languidly, stretching, she took off her nightgown and got into the bed...
"My good boy, my little boy Orphan, my poor Avery!" Gulica expressed affection to her husband, rubbing the balm from her face against him, begging for his caress.
"What's the matter with you? Stop being pretentious!" Avery was angry. "Why is this portrait hanging here?"
In one corner of the room, against the wall, was a black-framed photo of Vallam.
Guliko got off the bed unwillingly, walked over with her beautiful body naked, casually threw the photo on the cabinet, and returned to her husband.
Suddenly, a shrill bark from the watchdog interrupted the passionate chatter of the couple who were caressing each other.
"What's it called? This damn dog." Avery panicked.
"You lie down, I'll take a look." Gulico put on a nightgown and walked into the courtyard.
After a while, she was heard shouting:
"Avery!"
Avery ran out of the house:
"What's the matter?! What's the matter with you?"
Gurico cried, her face contorted in horror:
"Don't go there, there...by the pool...under a tree..."
Averi Running towards the pool, he stood there in shock: the body of the dead Varlam leaning against a tree with his arms folded over his chest.
Cemetery Night. A faint light broke through the dark night. Gradually, the outlines of several people present became clear: these were four of Avery's friends, who were carrying the coffin containing Vallam's body. Avery, carrying a lantern, was at the head of the silent queue. There is also Averi's son Tornica. They trudged through the narrow passages between the iron fenced tombs, put the coffins in the tombs, and filled the tombs with soil again.
Another morning. Gurico got up, went to the window and opened the curtains. She was so frightened that her face changed:
"Avery, look..." she shouted loudly.
In the yard, still under the tree, the dead Varlam was still leaning with his arms crossed over his chest.
Representatives of the regime: police chiefs, scouts, as well as reporters and photojournalists all carefully observed the scene of the incident. Four of Avery's friends were also there.
"The body should be caught," the police chief declared authoritatively. "Who first discovered him, and under what circumstances?"
"Gurico was the first to see him," said the tall, thin man as thin as a dried fish.
The police chief, with an air of arrogance, walked towards Avery's house. Gurico came out of the house to meet him.
"Hello, dear Gurico."
"Hello."
"When did you see him?"
" I saw him when we first came together in the morning, poor him, leaning against a tree. "..."
"The dead must be arrested!"
"Why, arrest?."
"It must be done to investigate the case. Don't worry, in an hour, you will have your beloved Vallam intact."
"Then do it!" she agreed.
Four of Averi's friends set out to "catch the dead".
"But with gloves!" the detective stopped them, handing them the white gloves.
White-gloved hands stuffed Varlam's body into a prison hearse with two maroon horses.
"It's really time," said the sturdy, fat man as he drilled into the hearse. "Vallam himself has been caught!" The
four friends snickered on the cemetery.
"Shh," said a foolish-looking person.
Everyone fell silent. The hearse drove away.
A "Mercedes-Benz" stopped at the gate of Alavidze's house. Averi got out of the car and walked towards Gulico:
"Hey, how is it? Have you been there?" She asked anxiously.
"Been to."
"How?" "I
have not met."
"I knew you would not see. Apparently someone played catch in front of us to report a little."
Awa Furlong from the balcony of a house next door Leaning forward, he shouted loudly:
"My dearest neighbor, Avery! Do you hope for their help?"
"Then what do you think I should do?" Averi pushed him back go back.
"My advice to you is: make an iron cage for the tomb, put a lock on the small door of the cage, lock it, and hide the key in your pocket, that's all it takes! Let them dig it.
Here !" An iron cage was placed over Varlam's tomb, and a large lock for the warehouse was hung on the cage. Avery's four friends admire the fruits of their labor. Apollon, who had to get involved in everything, was also busy there.
"It's a lion in a cage!" he exclaimed triumphantly. "Now whoever wants to touch it, let him touch it!"
Avery glanced at him with contempt, turned around abruptly, and quickly left the cemetery.
"Even the pharaohs of Egypt could not build such a pyramid!" said one of Averi's four friends with a sad expression on his face, speaking almost imperceptibly to the other three. made a wink.
early morning. Apollon finished watering the flowers on the balcony in his shorts and sweat vest and started his morning workout. Occasionally glanced over to the neighbor's house, he was immediately stunned, and he muttered
indistinctly : "Vallam...Vallam..." In an elephant park in the Aravize family yard On a long crater like the one here, the dead Vallam Alavidze sat upright in the familiar posture of his hands folded over his chest.
Many motorcycle motors roared toward the night cemetery. The chief of police and Avery led a group of police officers, with police dogs and a whole team of armed detectives, to surround the cemetery in Vallam...Tornicai took a double-barreled shotgun, avoided everyone, and was alone Hiding behind a headstone: He came here to defend his grandfather's dignity, whose blasphemous hand has already dug his grandfather out of his grave time and time again!
Police chief full responsibility issued an order to his subordinates: "A team is hidden behind this tomb without my command, do not walk one step, here is my head do not smoke, do not speak in place.!!!"
The police chief of One of his subordinates walked up to Avery:
"Averi, Mr. Director personally participated in this operation..."
"Yeah, he is a sincere man, he didn't watch me suffer!"
"Listen, Avery Verri, did you see that row of lighted windows at the back of the cemetery?"
" Yes ."
"My relatives live there. When he knew we were going to be sitting here all night just two steps from his house. When we are here, he must make us a delicious dinner."
"What's the matter?"
"Then he'll be pissed if we don't go to him!"
"Why, leave the grave behind?"
"We're sending a few people on duty to stay here...no one will come before midnight anyway. If there is any situation, the person on duty will come and call us! What do you think?"
"I don't know...you go and ask the director!"
"So, you agree? Then I'm leaving." He Hidden in the dark.
After a while, the voice of the chief came;
"Philip! Meridon!" The
two hurriedly ran towards the chief:
"Yes, chief 丨"
"Did you see that house?... There is just one lamp. The house with the big lights on?"
"See!"
"Now let's go there and call us if you find anything, understand?"
"
Understood , Chief!" Ernicki can see clearly. He was scared and cold, but most importantly: he felt sorry for his grandfather. Looking at the comedy unfolding in front of his eyes, he gripped the gun in his hand more tightly, watching the movement in the darkness more alertly.
At this moment Philip and Meridon sat down on a tombstone and drank slowly a bottle of vodka, which one of them had brought with great foresight in advance.
Meridon staggered a little to the side to urinate, but when he looked carefully at the inscription on the tombstone, he suddenly said loudly:
"Lukretsyi Tagayette! Oh, Excuse me, Rukretsyi... can't urinate here. What a great poet this is, ah! He is the best of poets..." He mumbled drunkenly, and went on again .
Philip drank a bottle of wine directly to the mouth of the bottle, lay down and went to sleep...
...The young man Tornikai opened his eyes wide and watched them from his ambush.
Suddenly, on a path leading to Varram Alavidze's tomb, a man in a padded jacket, boots, and a shovel in his hand appeared. Approaching the grave, the stranger started digging without haste.
Tornikai held his breath, raised the gun slowly, tried not to make a noise, aimed carefully, and fired a shot. The villain fell.
Hearing the gunshots, Philip woke up and fired aimlessly in all directions.
People led by the police chief came running.
Tornikai ran towards the crime, shouting frantically:
"Strangle you, rascal!"
It took a great deal of effort to pull him away from his victim.
"Let the dog out and it's over!" shouted one.
In the interweaving of shouting, scolding and the fierce barking of the dog, a voice of unknown person suddenly came:
"Oh my God...this is a woman!" The
court opened. Trial of Kejvan Balatieri, accused of desecrating the remains of Varram Aravidze. The courtroom was crowded with Alavizer's friends.
Judicial officers in white wigs and black dresses sat on the judge's bench. In the first row sat the accusers: Avery Alavidze and his wife, Gulico, in a beautiful shawl and a plunging dress. They are arrogant and confident because they believe in advance that the case will be won.
Armed guards in medieval armor brought the accused in.
Her appearance somehow did not match the crimes against which she was accused. She was wearing a dazzling white suit. Wise, sarcastic eyes. One of her injured arm was bandaged. There was no expression of fear or panic on his face. There was a fleeting smile at the corners of his mouth, a smile of satisfaction with what he had done... The
proceedings began.
"Defendant Baratieri!" the judge faced Katie. "You admitted at the pre-trial that you dug up the deceased from the grave three times and took him to the house of his relatives. Can you reconfirm this fact before the court and admit your guilt?"
"I confirm the fact, But I don't admit my guilt."
"But at the pre-trial you admitted your guilt."
"It's a fabrication! I didn't admit my guilt at the pre-trial!"
"Is this your shovel?" the judge asked.
"Yes, I used this shovel to excavate the dead. But where are the bullets that I took out of my arm?"
"So, you dug up the dead ?" The judge did not answer the defendant's question, but reiterated that Ask her again.
"Yes."
"Your guilt is here. The fact itself constitutes a crime."
"Yes, I dug my grave...but I don't consider myself guilty."
"Sit down! I ask you to sit down. And abide by the order of the court."
"The court is open." A slight mockery crossed Kajifan's face, "The verdict has been made!"
"Sit down!" The judge lost his patience.
"As long as I live, Varram Alavidze will not enter the soil. This final verdict cannot be appealed, because it was made by God for the two of us, for me and for Alavidz... ...not three times, I'll dig him out three hundred times!" Kajjvan sat down.
"Dear Judge!" Katie Barazzeri's defense stood up. "Defendant is understandably excited. Now I ask to speak!"
"Defendant's defense speaks," the judge announced.
"Dear Judges! Dear Citizens! Our case today is unprecedented. The dead were dug up three times! Three times! ... There is no doubt that the defendant was not exhumed for the purpose of robbery: and The valuables buried with the dead have not touched at all! What is going on here? What is the purpose of the crime? I tried to talk to the defendant during the pre-trial, but she was silent. So here it is, In court proceedings, we have to understand and investigate the case at the same time, and, of course, to make a judgment. That's why I ask the court to listen carefully to the defense of the defendant!"
"The defendant speaks!" The judge went down command said.
Kajjvan stood up:
"Of course all of you are interested: why do I hold on to the dead... The only thing I'm looking forward to now is: I hope it's not revenge on the dead. Revenge is for me Not happiness, but my misfortune, the cross of my suffering, but I can't get rid of the idea of revenge... So, who is Varram Aravidze?" The
defendant fell into contemplation. Her eyes seemed to be looking at the past, and at the same time at herself. She began with difficulty:
"When I was eight, he became mayor..."
A little girl in a beret, eight-year-old Katie Barazzeri, blows soap bubbles from her window. . She likes playing this very much.
The square in front of her family's house was crowded. Played a majestic and powerful music. A ceremony to elect Varram Alavidze as mayor is taking place in the square. On the podium were representatives of the residents of all walks of life: children in festive costumes, old men, men, women... a lot of colorful little flags, placards and many portraits of the new mayor hung. The parade passed in front of the podium with the accompaniment of the march. They held up the "capitalists" who were burning into giant scarecrows...
At this time, two plumbers were repairing the cracked water pipes in the square. One worker was sitting at the hole with the tap water valve, using a wrench, while the other was drinking coffee happily and watching the excitement with curiosity.
"Mom! Fountain, fountain!" Katie exclaimed gleefully.
Katie's mother, Nino Barazzeri, appeared at the window side by side with Katie, a beautiful young woman. Mother and daughter smiling and looking at the square.
At this moment, the junction of the two water pipes came apart, and a rush of water jetted straight to the podium. On the podium, a girl with round legs and a short dress was out of breath with joy. is speaking. In the sound of rushing water and majestic music, a few words from the speaker can be heard:
"Dangerous elements... Sabotage elements... Spies... Agents of imperialism..."
At this time, the water jets sprayed relentlessly On to the female shorthand typist beside the speaker, who was recording the pomp of the grand celebration.
The celebrated Varram Alavidze himself towered high above the large crowd. He was also drenched heroically, but still did not leave the place where he was standing, so no one dared to walk away or avoid the water column.
Apparently, a citizen under the mayor's shelter wanted to put some order in order. He threw the worker away from the site of the accident and used his chest to plug the gap in the water pipe, but the rush of water washed him aside.
Standing next to the microphone was already a weak old man. He delivered a courtesy message:
"Leo Nikolayevich Tolstoy, the fair-faced, wrote as early as 1893: 'The villain always persecutes the embodiment of the good...Cain (son of Adam) , Abel was his brother—translator’s note) killed Abel; Chiaf and Pilate tortured Christ… Roman emperors despised the Seneca. Ivan IV and his
janissaries ..." Vallam's subordinates, finally realizing that the old man was not telling the truth, hurried to his side, and another spokesman immediately replaced him.
The water in the fountain was always gurgling and flowing. The rush of water from the mains drowned out the voices of the speakers and the music...
Little Katie Barazzeri laughed out loud from the window of the house across from the square.
The water pipe was finally blocked, and Vallam Aravidze stepped up to the microphone amid the melody of the march, which was apparently played louder than before. He wears pince-nez glasses, has a mustache, and wears a black military uniform with an armed belt, breeches and boots. His stocky physique showed power and confidence, and he began to speak….
Katie's father, the painter Sandro Barazzeri, appeared in the window of that house. Silently, without a smile on his face, he glanced around the square, pushed his wife and daughter aside, and slammed the window shut.
In an instant, they - Sandro standing in the window, met the eyes of Vallam Averizer, whose glass lenses gleamed on her pince-nez... the
ancient Church of Our Lady. Sandro, his wife and their good family friend Elena Curisheri were there.
The walls of the church are full of old frescoes, but the inside of the church has become a laboratory: some powerful modern combinations of strange shapes and colors are placed. This church looks weird and a little scary: God's dwelling and a whole bunch of 20th-century tech gear all at the same time!
The announcer's voice over the loudspeaker was broadcasting:
"Shortly before his death, Einstein raised his voice for the last time to tell the world about the tragedy of the modern scientist. His last words were: 'The fate of the modern scientist is tragic. He has an independent opinion within himself, and with an almost superhuman effort he has created the tools to socially enslave himself and destroy his individuality. Things have come to a point where political power has given scientists a cow's pocket Mouth... Is such an era over? At that time, a scientist's freedom of thought and independence in his research could brighten and enrich people's lives. Could it be that when blindly exploring the truth of science Have scientists forgotten their sense of responsibility as a human being and who they are in front of people?...Our world is being threatened by a crisis, but people who have the power to make decisions about people's welfare or misfortune, don't seem to understand How big is this crisis. The released atomic energy changed everything, but not the way we think, and we slipped into a catastrophe we have never seen before. In order for mankind to survive, new The most complex task of our time is to prevent the threat of such a crisis in advance. At this decisive moment, my voice will speak out with all my remaining strength...''The greatness of the world "The Thinker Albert Einstein' is over. Now listen to light music."
Sandro Barazzeri and the city's others came to Varlam Aravidze's house to request an audience. Representatives from all walks of life, as well as professors: the venerable Mary Arm and the aged Moses.
The mayor receives visitors in the garden. Everything around is immersed in a greenery, birds are chirping, and in a word, this is an idyllic setting.
"The vibration of the machine during the experiment not only damaged the frescoes, but also caused cracks in the walls of the church," Sandro said excitedly.
"If this continues, the church will collapse. Moreover, this church is made of wooden stakes... We request that the laboratory should be stopped from continuing to conduct experiments in the church, and a new building should be built for the scientific research institution as soon as possible."
"So, you are against science and progress?" Alavese asked in mock surprise.
"We are against science that destroys the monuments of art."
"Dear Vallam," Mary Arm interjected, "only you, the mayor, can save this church! We would love your help."
"Dox Sobro!" Valla Mu called out to his secretary, who was standing not far from him. "What did the instruction about the church
say ?" "It was about the old, half-collapsed church!" said Doxoblo every word.
"Who said it collapsed?" Mosey fumed.
"Almost collapsed."
"Almost . . . do you hear, dear Vallam, almost! . . ." Mercy was fuming again.
"The building has almost collapsed, and it has become a base for people's health," Doxoblo said, machine-gun speed. "Many snakes and dracula have been bred on the foundation of the church, and no one has come to your church. The time when people were ruled by ignorance and believed that man was created by God, etc. has passed. We know: we all came from apes... that's why we decided to demolish the church and use the original building materials in place..."
"Don't talk about it, Doxobro, don't talk about it!" Allah Weizer interrupted him.
"Dear Doxobro!" Sandro said excitedly. "The Church of Our Lady is one of Christianity's greatest relics. It is a cultural relic! Don't you understand: to tear it down means to cut off the lifeblood that nourishes and nourishes the people. If so, then Just throw Homer, Tolstoy, Dante, Rustaveli on the fire and burn it! Stop playing Bach, Tchaikovsky, Verdi Then we will demolish Peter Church, Notre Dame de Paris, Svetitz Hovely Church... Dear Vallam, there are many rare treasures in our church. This is what our ancestors have for generations. Those treasures that are treasured to this day have been lost without a trace. Now even the building of the church will be demolished..."
"Bring my instructions about the lab," Aravidze said solemnly to Doxoblo. "Look, gentlemen, here's how it's written: 'I think a new building for the laboratory is perfectly appropriate in principle, but due to lack of funding we must postpone this building project for the time being'. You know what, my dear This question has made us anxious too, Mossey. But it seems that it should be done quickly and not postponed. You convinced me. Doxobro! Do you have a mother?"
"Yes..."
"How old is she?"
"She's old."
"Shouldn't you take care of her if she got sick? It's like this church, it's a sixth-century relic. It's our history, Our pride. As a son, we cannot leave our sick mother alone and let her suffer the ravages of fate. Doxobro, please remember... In short, we can only say one word to these noble people' Thank you', they made us see things clearly. They showed us the real situation. Gentlemen, I assure you that I will do everything in my power to make this happen... As for the experiments, as far as I know , which requires very little and very limited power. So the experiment will go on until the new building is built."
"If these high-pressure machines are running at full capacity," said Moser. He said angrily, "It's not just the church, the whole city has to be reduced to ashes."
"Look where you're talking about? Look, I'll destroy this document in front of you." Alavidze tore up the instruction. "Doc Sobro, you can go! Dear gentlemen, what else can I do for
you ?" "Thank you, we're all right," Sandro replied.
"Now, then, we can verify some of the details of our personal experience. Dear Mary Arm and dear Mercy can be said to be representatives of aristocratic blood, and I know their experiences well. As for dear Sander Lo, here's a question that interests me, dearest Sandro! Have you ever heard of such a Taras Tarasconieri?"
"Why not? , Taras Tarasconieri is my great-grandfather."
"So, it turns out that we are the same ancestor, because I am also a descendant of Taras Tarasconieri."
"What's going on!?"
"Yes, yes... But we'll talk about it later. This thing. Now I need you to say something to me... If I'm not mistaken, you live in a two-story house on the town square? Do you remember, when I was appointed as The mayor's day, when the ceremony was going on, there was a little girl blowing soap bubbles at the window, is this your residence?"
"Yes..."
"I saw it, I noticed it! What is this, yes Be wary of me, gentlemen, be wary of me! But in all seriousness, this is life! Some are blowing soap bubbles, others are after the enemies of the people, You painters are creating with enthusiasm. The beggars are begging, the murderers are killing, the prostitutes, sorry, debauchery... Is this normal? Is this normal?!" Alavese suddenly shouted.
Everyone looked at him inexplicably. But the frightening look on Alavidze's face suddenly turned into a friendly smile.
"It used to be like this," he said to appease everyone. "But never again. We're going to turn our city into a paradise... Gentlemen, it's up to you, to do it with you!"
Suddenly, a frenzy of intense music bursts The sound of music disturbs the idyllic tranquility of the garden. Dismayed, Mossey looked around: a glass dome above a beautiful meadow, and a few armed guards in medieval armor pacing back and forth on the dome, looking down from time to time, watching the visitors By.
"The interview is over!" said a female secretary who appeared out of nowhere.
Elena Kirisheri and Sandro are both in Mikhail Kirisheri's office. Sandro moved around the house excitedly.
"Maybe, Alavidze really didn't know anything. He said he wasn't here at the time." Mikhail tried his best to comfort his friend.
"Then why arrest these two old men? You explain! What are they guilty of? It turns out that they are also spies! Of course not, it has something to do with the church!" Sandro couldn't control himself. "He just took revenge on them for breaking his own orders! I'll go to him now! Let him release these two old men immediately, or put me in with them too!
" Calm down, my dear, what does this have to do with you?" Elena said.
"I took them to Alavidze, and it was because of me that they were arrested. It was all for the church."
"The problem is not the church!" Mikhail said hesitantly.
"What's that, what's that?!"
"I don't know..."
"Don't you know?"
"Sandro, calm down. What do you want to do to Alaviza? Because he wasn't here... ...don't get mad, go home, I'll take care of everything..." The
phone rang. Mikhail picked up the microphone.
"Yeah, Vallam! ... Vallam, we should be more careful with these things... no... yes, of course... thank you. Good health!" He put down the microphone and breathed out a breath of relief. . "You're a queer man, Sandro. A queer man! Vallam figured it all out and set them free. Now what can you say?"
The residence of the Balatieri family. The bell in the hall rang. Katie opened the door, and she froze in confusion. Doxoblo and Rick Tafilov came in in tuxedos and top hats with very solemn expressions on their faces. One of them had a red tulip in his hand, the other a birdcage with a canary. From behind them suddenly Varram Alavidze, in a pure white cloak, sings in a high falsetto a song of health; "Muravarremière" That is "the long summer" - translator's note). His assistants sang after him skillfully and in two voices. Varlam finished the song on a high note, and Doxoblo and Rick Tafiev made way for him. Varlam opened his cloak and shouted, "Jump!" and out of the cloak a nine-year-old boy named Averi, his son.
Vallam threw his cloak on the ground and walked towards the hostess of the house with a respectful smile:
"I didn't know that the painter Sandro Bartieri and the great Sandro Bauticherry had How many resemblances, but Nino Bartieri reminds me of the wonderful Virgin Bauticherry!" The
guest took Nino's hand cautiously and bent down, intending to kiss it, but suddenly He fell to her feet as if feebly, then immediately jumped up with a smile and continued:
"Did I frighten you, Nino, for the common man to kiss the hand, but for the goddess and A holy man should fall at his feet!" And he pressed his lips to the hem of the mistress' dress.
A frightened Katie hugged her father tightly.
Sandro watched the uninvited guest pretending to play with a serious, unsmiling expression on his face.
"Dear Nino," Varlam continued. "I've heard a lot of people talking about you, about the painter Sandro Barazzeri and his beautiful lady...I've longed to meet you and come to see the paintings, but because I have to wait for Mi Hail and Yelena came with me, but they're always unavailable..." Aravidze sly glanced at Yelena Kirisheri, who was visiting Nino's house.
"A false accusation, Mr. Vallam, this is a false accusation! It's not us, but you always have no time, and you are especially busy recently." Yelina replied to Alavidze.
But Varlam had left the women aside, and he went to the man of the house.
"Dear Sandro! I beg your pardon for my overly aggressive assistants. Fortunately, you've spoken out in a timely manner for the unjustly accused old people, otherwise they wouldn't know how these upright and honest old people would be dealt with. Under what circumstances. How many days have they been there?"
"All day and night," Sandro replied gloomily.
"These poor fellows are afraid, I guess?"
"Not too afraid. They're not timid people."
"They're tried and tested after all, aren't they? With this wonderful Mariam..."
"This is Katie Baratieri , the main member of the family!" Elena introduced the little girl to the guests.
"Oh dear Katie...here!" Vallam handed her the cage with a canary.
"Thank you."
"Now, Katie, invite Avery to your house to play," Nino said.
Katie took Avery by the hand and took him to the children's playroom.
"Sandro already knows this venerable Kayhoslo Doxoblo," Aravidze introduced his entourage to the master. "As for this Geno Riktafilov, presumably his surname reminds you of the word 'ristafila,' a kind of batting game for children . . . Wood to hit a little stick...but both of my buddies are top-notch singers...go!"
With a gesture from Vallam, all three sang together.
"Okay!" Sandro smiled mockingly and clapped.
"It's a kind of genius too," Varlam said proudly. "Dear Mistress! Excuse us, we're a little drunk, we're talking and singing...even a little bit can't stand! But we won't bother you for too long."
Alavidze glanced around the room The walls are covered with paintings by Sandro. His face became serious, and it was obvious that there were many thoughts.
He lowered his voice to a whisper.
"Sandro," he said with enthusiasm, "any of your works will grace the best museums in the world. That's the kind of painting we need: serious, thoughtful, profound..."
Vallam Take Sandro's arm and let him follow him.
"Dear Sandro! Can't our modern people have such sublime, ebullient faces instead of cookie-cutter faces that resemble each other? Why can't the modern working girls be painted like the Virgin Mary? Is there anything more beautiful than a working man? There will be nothing! Although, you know, we will have enemies, even many. Isn't it? Dear Elena!" He turned suddenly towards Elena.
"Of course, this is the real truth!" she happily echoed.
"Some people will say, what do we want this art for? It's an interior, small living room painting, it's actually escapism. Then I'll answer them: Sometimes escapism means more real Go in reality. The people need great reality, though... you know, how would our enemies explain that? They would say it's a call to anarchism! Anarchism, no less! Yeah , yes. Who is this?" Vallam asked, staring intently at a painting. "Good job, Sandro, good job! This is our Nino. An outstanding piece of work!"
Vallam looked back at his subordinates. Doxobro was looking at a sketch of a nude model with his mouth open. Rick Tafilov admires his face reflected on the framed glass.
"Wouldn't it be interesting to see what's going on in the minds of these people? Well, Sandro! They're all cultured people at least! You can't imagine that Mikhail and I were there for work. Responsibility has to deal with people who are so ignorant. Isn't that so? Dear Elena."
"Yes, exactly," Elena was ready to reply.
"It's not the dead artisans who should be with us now, but artists like you who should be with us. We have a great mission: we should enlighten the people and raise the level of their femininity."
"Mr. Vallam!" Sandro interrupted him suddenly and roughly. "Can I use my paintings, or can you use your hard work to enlighten the people who have created works like 'Tiger Skin Warrior'? Only the priests of the church and the spiritual heroes of the people can enlighten the people."
Vallam didn't answer. He looked at Sandro for a long time, all-seeing eyes, and then said with admiration:
"Humility adds to the brilliance! Honestly, dear Sandro, what kind of church pastor am I? But . . . Wait a little longer, don't rush us, give us a period of time, the times will create heroes... It is very likely that the time of trial will come soon, and it will be a test for you and me."
In the children's playroom , Katie and Avery stand in front of a small cross with a crucifix.
"Why torture Christ?" Avery asked. "What was his fault?"
"No. He was tortured for holding on to the truth," the little girl replied.
A shadow passed over Avery's face.
"Don't be afraid." Katie was busy comforting him. "Christ didn't die. He was resurrected and flew into the sky like a bird. There are only good people in the sky. Bad people can't get there."
"Why?"
" The bad guy is too heavy."
"Why is it heavy?"
"Because he has too many sins. The good guy is a pure soul. And the soul is so light that it can fly like a bird."
"How do you know that?"
"Mum said. Did you know that this cross can manifest itself. If you ask it for anything before going to bed or when the new moon appears, it will come true."
"Everything will come true ?"
"Everything."
" Can it all be fulfilled?"
" Yes ."
Nino came into the house and brought fruit for the children.
"Then will it revive my mother?" Avery whispered.
Nino approached the little boy and knelt down beside him:
"Don't you have a mother? Your mother loves you. She's in heaven with the angels. She's been watching you, thinking of you..."
"Nino! ' someone in the living room was calling her.
"Coming soon."
Nino kissed the little boy's forehead lovingly and walked out.
In the living room, Vallam, with his well-trained voice, was singing Marenrico's aria from the opera "The Wanderer" in Italian. Doxoblo and Rick Tafilov stretched their lips into the shape of a flute, blowing vigorously in place of the band.
In order to show hospitality to the guests, Sandro, Nino, and Elena all sat on the sofa, listening to this impromptu music program with mixed feelings of fear, surprise, and sarcasm.
Vallam took a deep breath and finished the song on an almost unbelievably high note. The audience applauded enthusiastically. Vallam took up the stand and bowed. His "band" mechanically, like clockwork dolls, repeats his boss's bows and smiles.
"It's time for us to go," Vallam said reservedly. "Avery!"
Katie begged as she ran out of the children's playroom.
"Uncle Vallam, can Avery stay a little longer?"
"Just a little longer," Vallam said. Mu graciously agreed. "But only one more minute."
"Dear Vallam," smiled the mistress. "You sing us something more!"
"I'd love to."
Vallam put on a gesture, and suddenly recited:
I'm going to call death, I can no longer see
worthy people asking for alms,
lying and mocking Morley, the
little people wear fancy clothes, the
good things are wrongly judged, the
virginity is violently abused,
Shame is inappropriately revered.
Night is held captive by weakness,
bluntness is seen as foolishness,
folly wears the mask of a wise prophet,
inspiration is suppressed,
justice works for evil.
"William Shakespeare, Sonnet 66..." Vallam concluded the recitation. "But... the system has to be followed. Avery... jump!" he ordered.
Avery hurriedly kissed Katie on the cheek.
"I'll come to you again!" he said to her as he walked, and immediately jumped onto the open sill of the window, jumping from the second floor into the street.
The women shouted loudly. Katie ran to the window:
"Mom, he jumped out!"
Vallam was already at the window in his white cloak. He smiled strangely and ran out after his son. Doxoblo and Rick Tafilov jumped out of the window one after another, disappearing into the night like ghosts.
"The harlequin... the joking clown..." Sandro mumbled between his teeth.
Suddenly the doorbell rang. Nino went to open the door. Appearing in front of her was Vallam again.
"I'm sorry, Nino..." he said with a deep melancholy expression. "It's me again... my silly boy took your cross and said Katie gave him..." He respectfully handed her the little crucifix with the crucifix. "This child believes that this cross can bring his mother back to life. Fortunately, I found it in time... Please treasure it, this is a very precious thing." Vallam stared at the woman. "Dear Nino, please add me to your list of many admirers...I beg of you..." He said the last words in an almost low, low voice, and respectfully Respectfully kissed Nino's hand.
night. Balatieri's house is quiet. Sandro sat at the piano, lost in thought. Nino lay curled up in the easy chair. It seemed that something was disturbing her even in her sleep.
Sandro played the keys lightly with his fingers. Accompanied by the disturbing tune he plays, Nino dreams of...
… Nino and Sandro run down the narrow, dimly lit corridors of the basement to escape invisible stalkers. The terrifying chase continued on pedestrian-free streets lit by dazzling lights. Armored knights, followed by Varlam in a convertible car, pursued the terrified couple...
. . . A cleared field suddenly appeared before the two fugitives. Looking far into the distance, you can see a few cows tucked together and a gray-haired peasant plowing the field. The shiny plowshares turned up the fertile clods. Nino and Sandro run to the peasant, begging him to rescue them...
Knights in armor and Vallam in a convertible also suddenly appear in the field. They searched for the two fugitives; but found no one, and had to turn back...
Nino and Sandro lay in the furrows, covered with earth up to their necks. The peasant watched the departing pursuers anxiously, and then he left the land to chase them...
Nino, who was lying in the furrow, suddenly narrowed his eyes with fright: she saw Vallam proud at a glance Standing beside her with a big smile, she was singing Marenrico's aria from the opera "Wandering Warrior"
... Nino woke up in panic.
"What's the matter with you?" Sandro asked.
"I had a terrible dream, Sandro! Let's get out of here! Let's go somewhere far away..." Nino whispered tearfully.
"If they want to get us, they'll get us out of the ground."
"My God, that's exactly what I dreamed about! What to do? What to do?!"
"Nino… ..." Sandro smiled wryly. "You remind me now of that rabbit, who was running like hell. 'Where are you going?' someone asked it. 'They said they were going to catch wolves!' 'What does that have to do with you?'' When they catch you, you will prove to them that you are not a wolf! … 'Oh, my coward!"
The bell rang in the hall.
"Sandro... it's them! It must be them!" Nino whispered in fear.
Sandro opened the door.
Several armed guards in armor came in.
"Peace to your family! Are you Sandro Barazzeri?"
"Yes."
"You have to come with us. You'll be back soon."
"Okay!" Sandro Lo replied.
The armed guards began to "move into action": they skillfully removed the paintings from the walls to take them. One of the guards walked up to the piano, tapped the keys a few times, and played a very simple tune, but not in tune at all. Nino seemed to be in a daze, silently watching what was happening.
Sandro moves deliberately slowly and elegantly into his clothes, tie, and hat.
Nino stared intently at the guard who was playing the piano. For a moment, through the iron armor of his helmet, Nino seemed to see the glass glittering on Vallam's pince-nez.
Sandro was taken away. Before leaving, he took one last look at the bare walls and the solitary figure of his wife...
In Mikhail Korisheri's office, Varram Alavidze was waiting for his boss.
With a frown, Cori Sheri hurried in, without even looking at Vallam, and sat down at the desk.
"Hello, dear Mikhail," Vallam said respectfully.
"On what basis did you arrest Sandro Barratieri?" Cori Cheri asked, trying his best to suppress his anger.
Without a word, Vallam took a piece of paper from his portfolio and handed it to Mikhail.
"What's this?'"
"You read it," said
Cori Sheri:
"'In the last period, the clumsy paintings of certain peeping painters have an individualistic tinge... This arrogant rogue painter... He is associated with some anarchist poets... At five o'clock the night before yesterday, In a circle of painters, he openly threatened that if anyone touched the Church of Our Lady with even one finger, he would chop off that person's hand with an ancestral dagger. Ask, who is protecting this fanaticism and hold a solo exhibition for him? Anarchist Baratieri's painting is a disgrace to our culture, it's harmful to our society. If you don't deal with this ill-conceived man, then we should sue Wherever you go! . . . a group of painters.' Then, this letter is the reason for the arrest of Baratieri?!" Currie Shedan asked angrily.
Alavidze was silent.
"I ask you? . . . you arrested him because of this nonsense, this wicked piece of paper? Our enemies are those who wrote this letter! My God! You are all crazy. I'm going to be mentally ill. Balatieri is my friend, and I'm proud of him. What's the matter? Are my friends and my people enemies?"
"I'm Du Pengbai, but that's not a reason for those who wrote this letter!"
"Then, maybe, the artist's genius is not a reason for them either?"
"They must be referring to His position..."
"What position are you talking about? Genius is kindness, and kindness speaks for itself!"
"My dear Mikhail, I understand you, Sandro Barazzeri is Your friend, who you raised... By the way, did you know that he's my relative?"
"No, I don't know," said Cori Sheri warily.
"Yes, yes! Even close relatives! ... Dear Mikhail, you can write a dissent ..." Vallam suggested to him with a flattering smile. "Balagtieri has just been arrested anyway, he has not been convicted yet. I'm just carrying out the will of the people. You know, there are many people, many people who support this letter, and every word from the people comes to me Saying it is the most sacred, write a dissent, dear Mikhail, write it!"
Currie Cheri was confused, he didn't understand what was going on, but he felt that someone was leading him somewhere, someone was trying to trap him, and he asked:
"Write it?"
"You write Well, I don't object at all."
"Wait, wait! You don't object, what do you mean? What would you have to object to truth?"
"Truth?"
"Yeah, truth."
" I have nothing against the truth."
"Then I'll write it!" said Cori Sheri menacingly.
"You can write it... but please think about it, there is still this letter here!" He pointed to the letter from "a group of painters".
"What is this letter? What is this... this vile letter?" He tore the letter to shreds furiously. "Are you talking about this whistleblower letter?"
"This piece of paper you call the whistleblower letter is an official document, which has been registered and signed by thousands of units."
"Let the registered and signed units take it Come back!"
"That's impossible, dear Mikhail..." Varlam explained with the same patience as a child, pretending to be very respectful. "I'm sorry, I have to be in the position of the majority on this issue, because the majority decides everything."
"What kind of majority, the majority you vulgarize?—a smart guy Much better than a thousand idiots!"
"I know what you think of me, my dear Mikhail...you can defend Balatieri. A person's defense is not a big deal. But only Remember this: you are defending an enemy against the people who wrote this letter! Yes, yes! This friend of yours, this relative of mine, is from now on our enemy. He is the enemy, and we His victim."
"Who's the enemy? Who's the enemy?" Cori Sheri shouted loudly.
He couldn't control himself any longer, raised his hand and slapped Alavese hard.
A smug smile crossed Vallam's face. He stared silently at his boss for a moment, then touched the heel of his shoe like a soldier, turned and walked out of the office.
Prison gate. Outside the small window of the duty room, there was a long queue of people who came to ask for things to be handed over.
A woman with a child hurried forward from the side of the line, and as she walked, she said:
"The child can skip the line. Let me go over, I'll take the child."
When she got to the window, she almost shouted loudly Rise up:
"Baakashvili."
"Certificate, " came an indifferent voice from the window. "You'll take what you're going to hand over."
The woman breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone looked at her enviously.
"Corriere Irisbal!" An emotionless voice sounded from the window. "Already exiled and deprived of correspondence!"
"Where was he exiled? Where was he? Where was he?" cried an unlucky woman in desperation. "You might as well say that he is no longer alive...he is dead...don't torture us!"
The armed police officer in armor pulled her out of the team.
Nino approached the window with his daughter.
"Balazzi..." she said timidly.
"I've been exiled, and I've been deprived of the right to communicate." The voice of the man who didn't show up replied.
Nino ran into the reception room of Mikhail Kirisheri. The female secretary blocked the door to the office with her body and pushed the woman who had come to ask for an interview into the corridor.
"My darling, can't go in... Mikhail Korisheri has been arrested... just took him... go away, or you will be unlucky yourself. Go away, for God's sake For the sake of..."
...Nino, stunned, stood alone in the corridor. A number of placards with portraits of Varram Aravedze are placed against the wall. Nino thoughtfully approached the placards slowly, shoving them to the ground, stomping on them furiously. When she looked up, she saw Vallam himself, who was watching her with a smile.
"Dear Vallam, please help... Sandro is almost done... save him..." the woman whispered pleadingly as she knelt before Vallam and kissed his boots.
Vallam grinned triumphantly, and stepped over Nino, who was lying on the ground, with a look of contempt.
From the street, a young boy peers out of the window of a basement that now houses Nino and her daughter.
"Aunt Nino!" he said very quietly, "some logs were delivered to the station... It is said that the exiles left their names and addresses on the logs... Perhaps, Uncle Sandro put his name on it. Written in... Mom asked me to come..."
"Katie, get up... quick, quick..." Nino hurriedly dressed Katie, put on his cape, and walked out of the house.
A cloudy day in March. The warehouse of the railway station. Big stacks, big stacks of lumber were stacked on the platform.
A gray-haired woman in mourning dress anxiously searches the yellow cross-sections of thick logs for the names of her loved ones.
Nino and Katie ran along the lumber-laden train, eagerly and excitedly scrutinizing a familiar name across the cross-sections of the logs.
"Mom!" came the excited and joyful cry of a child. "I found it, I found it!" The little boy ran back to the city with the good news.
Balatieri's name was not found anywhere. Weary and desperate, Nino and Katie wandered back and forth hopelessly around the place where the station belonged.
And not far from them, the gray-haired woman seemed to have been glued to a log. With tears streaming down her face, she kept kissing the words carved on the wood, whispering something affectionately.
...the sky is getting dark. It's raining. There was no one at the station except Nino and Katie. Katie girl sitting on a lot of sawdust, constantly grabbed handfuls of sawdust, so that they are like the sand drain from her fingers as crevices down ......
a green grass on the ground placed under the sunshine a piano. Birds chirped. Butterflies fluttered back and forth. A light wind blows the grass...
a young scout in a tuxedo and a wreath and a beautiful bride in a white dress ensemble Mendelssohn's "Wedding March".
Armored police officers brought the arrested Sandro Barazzeri.
The girl in the white dress covered her eyes with a black veil, holding a sword and a scale, and became Themis, the goddess of justice. An absurd drama begins: the scout groom jumps on the piano and sets out on the trial.
"Sit down in the easy chair, Baratieri, perhaps, if you want to smoke?"
"Thank you, I don't smoke."
"Trust me, it will be good for your destiny to confess your guilt early. The leader, the main person in charge, Mikhail Krisheri mentioned your name and said that you are an active member of this secret organization."
"To slander an honest person in order to obtain a false confession from me is this Immoral."
"Anything that is good for the common cause is moral."
"What good is it for the common cause to let innocent people tell lies and punish them?"
"We have solid evidence to prove it. : Every one of these 'innocent people' is the enemy of the nation."
"For example, someone like me?"
"Why, don't you believe what I say?!"
"How can you believe it? , For example, you have arrested a person like me without any basis or reason! And now you are using various means to force me to confess and sign the false confession."
"False confession? What if you and Mi What will you say then when Hail Krisheri confronts him face to face?"
"No one can convince me that Mikhail Kirisheri is the enemy. If honest people like Kirisheri are to be arrested, then the whole country must be arrested.
" Bring Mikhail Kirisheri here," the investigator told an armed police officer.
The armed police officers brought Cori Sheri, who was very thin, like a suffering saint, wearing a white gown.
"Krisheri, are you a spy for 'Pontos'?" the investigator asked.
"Yes..."
"What kind of espionage do you have?"
"I should dig a tunnel from Bombay to London," Cori Sherry replied.
"Who helped you with this?"
"All those involved in the conspiracy."
"Specifically? How many?"
"Two thousand seven hundred!"
"Of course you can't remember their names? "
There's a list of those who participated in the secret operation, and I think it's easy for you to find it."
"What kind of sabotage are you doing?"
"We breed 'poisonous corn' to wipe out the inhabitants."
" Is Sandro Bartieri a member of your organization?"
"Yes." The
investigator smiled contentedly. He put his arms around "Themis" by the waist, took her to the bushes, and put the two arrested aside for a while:
"You guys are chatting here. I'll leave you for a while, when I'm done with my own. We'll come back later."
Currie and Sandro were left, and they were silent for a while, and then Currie, convinced that the investigator had left, said:
"Listen, Sandro. I thought a lot, all night long. We should blame as many people as we can and call them enemies of the nation. They can't arrest all of them. , and when the number of people accused is very, very large, then above, they think of an emergency meeting to find out: Who are all the criminals who confuse the government. You know, Sandro? It's a tactic, a scheming, mystifying tactic: we confess everything, say everything to the point of absurdity, say it as nonsense, we confess to a thousand absurd confessions, and what to say A tunnel from Mumbai to London and so on... Finally, the government will understand everything, will get angry and put its own iron fist on the necks of the villains and destroy them. All the confessions are made up of nonsense I came up with the wisdom. Do you understand, Sandro?"
Sandro's face showed a look of surprise, paleness, and fear. Eyes full of tears.
Seeing him like this, Cori Sheri seemed to have woken up from an absurd dream. His face twitched with pain, and with a beastly roar from his chest, he rammed his head against the piano lid.
Another celebration in the city square. A majestic march resounded. Vallam Alavidze speaks from the podium:
"We should not trust people, neither what he does nor what he says! We should be vigilant and be good at identifying the enemy," he exclaimed hysterically, getting so excited that he wanted to excite the crowd too . "That's our priority today. It's not an easy task, gentlemen! What complicates the situation is that there are four enemies out of every three! Yes, yes, you don't have to be surprised! One enemy A friend is not equal in number, an enemy outnumbers a friend! It has always been like this in the past! It is still like this today...The motherland is in a dangerous situation, gentlemen! I hope Our people have become a clenched fist, the Great Wall of China that cannot be conquered by the enemy. Now that I have mentioned the wisdom of China..." Vallam smiled and continued in a sweet voice: "Confucius said Past: 'It's not easy to catch a black cat in a dark room, let alone maybe the black cat isn't there.' Without a doubt, we are facing one of the most difficult tasks. But for us , there is no obstacle. If we want to, we will catch the black cat in the dark room, and maybe the black cat is not even there..."
The clamour of the celebration can be heard even in Yelina's office, at this moment , Nino is there waiting for the arrival of the master. Elina finished her class at the school and walked in with a globe in her hand.
"It's great that you're here," Elena said. "What's new?"
Nino shook his head sadly.
"Wait a minute, I'll go check everything right now." Ye Lina picked up the phone receiver.
"Please take 317...Nika? I'm calling you. Nino is here. Didn't hear anything about our loved ones? Yes, got it. Good."
"Then, Nino, listen," Elena said. "Everything will be as we hoped. Arresting Sandro and Mikhail was of course a mistake. We should be patient, you and I should do it. You see, Nika will find out. Etc. They figured it out and they're going to let both of them out... You gotta get up your nerves, Nino! Remember? You have a Katie. You're responsible for her. I'm sure everything will work out , will be fine. They can't not know the truth, they can't not let Sandro out! … Nino! Now I'm thinking about your little girl. Katie should be a good citizen first and foremost, a commander Respected woman. Your misfortune should not have any bad influence on her," Yelina said, more and more impassioned. "Don't forget, we are serving a great cause. Future generations will remember us proudly." Her eyes were shining, as if she had forgotten Nino, and she was facing the invisible. Crowd: "Because of the size of our cause, of course, our mistakes will be many. Even innocent people will be victims, and such things will happen. But I have heard, my dear, I have Hearing Beethoven's "Ode to Joy", this tune will definitely resound throughout the earth in the near future..."
Yelina lowered her hands like a prayer, and sang Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" in German:
Happy, beautiful
children of the splendid fire of Irisim,
we sing of the fiery fervor of the fire,
as if entering the holy kingdom of heaven.
(See "Beethoven's Fate and Creation," p. 151. Published by Tiantong Publishing House. -- Translator)
.…In Nino's nightmare, the tune of "Ode to Joy" still resounds, and still The image of Sandro, who is doomed to go to the execution, appears.
A chorus of universal praise accompanies Sandro on his journey to his ordeal, and at the moment of Sandro's crucifixion, a loud explosion in hell interrupts the chorus.
Nino woke up in panic.
"What's the matter, mother?" Katie asked.
"We don't have a dad anymore..."
"What... what?"
There was a deafening rumbling outside the window.
The mother and daughter ran into the street and saw the reflection of a fire somewhere.
"Notre Dame Church was bombed..." Someone said something.
early morning. Nino was knocking on Elina's door, but no one came to open it. Finally, a terrified woman leaned out from the neighbor's door:
"What are you knocking on? There's no one there. Elena was taken away... didn't you see? Their house was sealed off. ."
Nino fell limply on the steps and cried.
Varram Aravidze's lavish office is filled
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