Because it is no longer in the 20s, copie conforme is more realistic than before sunrise. From the topic of conversation, many of the topics are around marriage (including the middle two pretending to be a couple), and in the end, there is no good breakup like before sunrise. But still can't help but want to meet for the next meeting, copie conforme seems to emphasize "just enjoy this moment of friendship" from beginning to end, so that the difference at the end is so indifferent and natural, without entanglement or reluctance. These are the two dusts that have settled. After a short spark, they calmly accept the separation and return to their original positions. Why be so calm? Is it because the two results are clearly thought out - if you follow the passion at the moment and insist on changing the trajectory of your life, the two people who have been together 10 years later may still be able to hug and sleep intimately, and it is more likely that they will repeat their current dullness. Marriage, so no longer willing to gamble it all? Or, the beauty of love is only the gesture of occasional nostalgia and occasional longing. Such thoughts are good to taste from a distance, and there is no need to have the strength to practice the next half of your life.
What remains in my mind is the family hotel in the last town, a certain room on the top floor. After the passion, everything returns to calm. The sunset outside the window shines in a twilight. Binoche is lying on the bed quietly, listening to the waves coming from the street. bells. This scene is so like Tsvetaeva's "I want to live with you", sweet and beautiful, of course, "I want to live with you" is just a thought in my head.
I want to live with you
in some small town,
sharing the endless twilight
and endless bells.
In this town's inn -
struck by the old clock
The faint sound
is like a gentle drip of time.
Sometimes, at dusk, a
flute , and the
piper is leaning against the window,
which is full of tulips.
If you don't love me right now, I don't care.
In the center of the room, a tiled stove,
each tiled with a picture:
a heart, a sailboat, a rose.
And looking out from our only window,
snow, snow, snow.
You will lie down in the position I like: lazy,
indifferent, indifferent.
A
screeching .
The flame of your cigarette turned weak,
the end of the smoke trembled and trembled, and the
short gray butt of the cigarette—even the ashes
You didn’t bother to flick off—the
cigarette flew into the fire.
View more about Certified Copy reviews
