Valahol Európában Quotes
Kuksi: What are you writing?
Piotr Simon, the old man: Sheet.
Kuksi: What's the use of that?
Piotr Simon, the old man: That makes music.
Kuksi: And what's the use of that?
Piotr Simon, the old man: Huh, you can ask me some very hard questions. How do I say? If something hurts you that very much, or something is so beautiful that it cannot be told by words, then it is told by this way. [begins to play the piano]
Piotr Simon, the old man: It is heard more easily, you understand?
Kuksi: No.
Piotr Simon, the old man: Listen to me. There was once a young man in a far-far away land somewhere in France, who would have a lots of things to say to the people. He sat down to the piano and did this. [he begans to plan 'Le Marsellaise']
Piotr Simon, the old man: Didn't you hear this before?
Kuksi: No.
Piotr Simon, the old man: Neither of you heard it? [no answer just sharp looks]
Piotr Simon, the old man: It doesn't matter. Nobody has heard it back then. But one day someone walked by in front of the young man's window and heard it. Then another one, then another one. One of them whistled it, another one sang it. More and more people began to sing it. The song has been given wings. And when a giant crowd sang it, they answered with cannon fire. And with bigger and bigger cannon fire, with tanks and machine guns. But the song always remained stronger. It was spread all around the world. Because everywhere the people understood what that young man wanted to say.
Ficsur: And what did your young men wanted to say?
Piotr Simon, the old man
Piotr Simon, the old man: Sheet.
Kuksi: What's the use of that?
Piotr Simon, the old man: That makes music.
Kuksi: And what's the use of that?
Piotr Simon, the old man: Huh, you can ask me some very hard questions. How do I say? If something hurts you that very much, or something is so beautiful that it cannot be told by words, then it is told by this way. [begins to play the piano]
Piotr Simon, the old man: It is heard more easily, you understand?
Kuksi: No.
Piotr Simon, the old man: Listen to me. There was once a young man in a far-far away land somewhere in France, who would have a lots of things to say to the people. He sat down to the piano and did this. [he begans to plan 'Le Marsellaise']
Piotr Simon, the old man: Didn't you hear this before?
Kuksi: No.
Piotr Simon, the old man: Neither of you heard it? [no answer just sharp looks]
Piotr Simon, the old man: It doesn't matter. Nobody has heard it back then. But one day someone walked by in front of the young man's window and heard it. Then another one, then another one. One of them whistled it, another one sang it. More and more people began to sing it. The song has been given wings. And when a giant crowd sang it, they answered with cannon fire. And with bigger and bigger cannon fire, with tanks and machine guns. But the song always remained stronger. It was spread all around the world. Because everywhere the people understood what that young man wanted to say.
Ficsur: And what did your young men wanted to say?
Piotr Simon, the old man
Movie: Valahol Európában
