It seems to make me return to the place, poignantly dear to my heart, where my grandfathers house used to be in which I was born 40 years ago right on the dinner table. Each time I try to enter it, something prevents me from doing that. I see this dream again and again. And when I see those walls made of logs and the dark entrence, even in my dream I become aware that I'm only dreaming it. And the overwhelming joy is clouded by anticipation of awakening. At times something happens and I stop dreaming of the house and the pine trees of my childhood around it. Then I get depressed. And I can't wait to see this dream in which I'll be a child again and feel happy again because everything will still be ahead, everything will be possible...
Andrei Tarkovski - Le Miroir (Zerkalo, 1974)
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