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Producer|Deana Jakubisková-Horváthová
in association with|Czech Television
present|a F.A.Brabec movie
based on 7 ballads|by K.J.Erben
... written by
... costume design
edited by ...
sound design ...
music by ...
... executive producer
A mother died and she was buried
Small orphans left behind her.
Each morning|to her grave they hurried
And tried and tried to find her.
Her pity for them at that hour
Brought her soul from the ground
For she became|a small-leafed flower
Which covered her grave mound.
Shine, Moon, shine!
And let me knit my line.
Green robes and shoes of red.
Tomorrow I am wed.
Shine, Moon, shine!
My clothes, O mother,|I will take
To wash down at the lake.
Och no, go not down to the lake.
Stay this once for my sake.
Black dreams I had last night,|my daughter.
Go not down to the water.
For you I chose|these pearls so bright
And dressed you all in white,
In skirts as light as foam,|my daughter.
Go not down to the water.
White robes hide grief|in their light furls
And tears are lost in pearls,
And Friday is ill-omened,|daughter.
Go not down to the water.
Hoop-la, hoop-la, my sweet son,|My boy, my bright surprise.
You smile at me,|and with her grief
Your mother slowly dies.
Hoop-la, hoop-la, my sweet child|My little Waterman,
Remember sadly my own mother|ls all that I now can.
The spring shoot|of my blooming youth,
You broke in pieces two.
And ever after that|there's naught
That I want pleases you.
Your word, O wife,|I wish to trust
So deep is my devotion.
But who will catch|the fish let free
Again back to the ocean?
So many times|I've sweetly begged
This one thing and no other,
That for a brief while|you'd let me
Return to see my mother.
Oh I would quickly step aside|And leave your pathway clear
If woman's erring sense were not|The thing I greatly fear.
From first light|to the fall of dusk
ls all I will agree,
And to be sure|that you'll return
The child you leave with me.
Farewell, my dearest mother.
Oh how I fear the night.
Oh never fear, my own sweet one,|That murderer is gone.
I'd never leave you in the power|Of that dire water wight.
Come home, O wife of mine,|come home!
I have not eaten yet.
Be gone,|get you off from our door,
Be off, you scheming killer,
And what it was you ate before|Eat that again. Now get!
Come home, O wife of mine,|come home,
Come home and make my bed.
Be gone,|get you off from our door,
Be off, you scheming killer,
And who it was made it before
Will make again your bed.
Come home, O wife of mine,|come home,
Our child cries, let him drink.
O mother, this is torture wild,
My heart bursts for my child.
O mother mine, O mother dear,
Let go and let me sink.
Go nowhere, daughter,|from your home,
Betrayal is in store.
However much you love your child|I fear for you much more.
Be off, you killer, to your lake
My daughter you'll not take,
And if your little child|does cry
At our door leave him lie.
O mother, mother, woe is mine,
His cries make my heart pine,
O mother mine, O mother dear,
The Waterman I fear.
A dear man once had I,
For him I'd gladly die.
He left for foreign lands|Ere we put up the banns.
O Mary, full of power,
Och, help me at this hour.
Bring my beloved home,
Lord knows where he does roam.
Bring him, I reck not how,
Or finish my life now.
Ho, do you wake or sleep?
I'm here, my maid. Don't weep.
My sweet, so it came true.|So long I've thought of you.
Your image did not fade.|Just now for you I prayed.
Leave off those prayers and see!
O leap and run with me!
This moon will be our guide,
I've come to take my bride.
Oh what is that you say?
This late where would we stray?
The wind howls, darkest night,
Shall we not wait till light?
For me the night is day,|And daylight dreaming play.
Before the cock's alarms,|You must be in my arms.
On nights like this I've found
The dead rise from the ground.
So swiftly they come near.
Are you afraid, my dear?
Why fear when you're with me,
And God's eye over me?
My sweet, O tell me rather
What news of your good father?
And your dear mother? Show me.
Will she have joy to know me?
You ask too much, my dear,|Quick run, all will come clear.
Quick run, we have no time,|The road hard and the climb.
What do you carry there?
It is my book of prayer.
O drop it! That alone|ls heavier than stone.
O drop it and you'll fly|As fast as me and high!
O tell me, by my vows,|About your little house.
The kitchen clean and bright?|ls there a church in sight?
You ask too much, my dear.|Quick run, all will come clear.
Your waist. What do I see?
It is my rosary.
That rosary you take
lt grips you like a snake.
lt strangles you. Now hush
And drop it! We must rush!
What is that ribbon there,|Around your neck just there?
My mother's cross I bear.
That gold, upon my life,|Has corners like a knife.
lt stabs us both. Oh fling|lt off and you'll take wing.
O maid of mine, we're here.
Has it not all come clear?
The house of our good Lord?
Not his, that is my fort.
Those graves, I ask your pardon?
Not graves, that is my garden.
My maid, now look at me,
And vault this wall with glee!
Let me go from your hold.
Your eyes are strange and cold.
There's poison in your sighs,
Your heart is hard like ice.
Oh do not fear, my love.|And we'lI have mirth enough,
Much meat if little blood.|This first will make all good.
-What's that, beloved one?|-The robes that I have sown.
There's only need of two,|One for me and for you.
Fear not and hurry after,|And long will be our laughter.
But always you went first
Along the road accursed.
Go then like just before,
Show me the way once more.
Arise, though dead you are,
And push back this door's bar.
O Holy God, abet me,|Let not the devil get me.
Lie down, dead man, and rest,|By Our Lord you'll be blessed.
Arise, though you have died,|And open this door wide.
O Christ, I supplicate,|Save my soul in this strait.
You dead man, lie and rest,
By God we'll both be blessed.
Arise, though dead and strive on
And hand me out the live one.
O Mary, in my need,
With your son intercede.
Unworthy, my cries heard,
Forgive me that I erred.
Run off, you noon-day witch!
If only you would hush,|you little gypsy.
At noon, your father|comes back from the fields.
The fire's going out,|bad boy, for both your meals.
Hush up.
A hussar and a coach.
Go play, here is a cock.
Oh would a hornet sting you!
You horror! To the noon-day|witch I'll bring you!
Come for him, noon-day witch!
Come take this little terror!
Give me the child.
Christ Lord,|forgive this sinner's sins.
For Christ's dear wounds.
About the woods'|and fields' expanse
A lord comes riding|through his lands.
His stallion black
and boisterous wings,
And gaily each spur sings.
I greet you warmly,|honoured guest,
Who might you be, is my request,
And how did you come here?
Lord of these lands,|my royal estate,
I am, and called it|seems by fate.
I'll give you silver|and gold too,
For which I'll take|your girl from you.
Stranger than strange,|my liege & king,
Whoever heard of such a thing?
We are not worthy,|king and saviour,
If only we deserved your favour.
Take counsel|from this ancient crone,
For my ward I will give my own.
I cannot tell|one from the other,
& neither could|the other mother.
Bad counsel you give me,|old shrew.
So carry out what I tell you.|Tomorrow at the break of day
Lead your step daughter|on the way
Which leads to my royal castle.
Arise, my daughter,|come make haste.
All's stirring|and the king awaits.
Get dressed, O sister mine,|get dressed,
The royal board is laden best.
O mother dear, O tell me do,
Why do you take|that knife with you?
The knife is good|in some cold brake
To pluck the eyes out of a snake
Now hurry up and come.
O sister dear, O tell me do,
Why do you take|the axe with you?
The axe is good|when you think least
To hack the limbs|off some wild beast.
Now hurry up and come.
O you are that snake|and that beast.
Now from this life|be you released.
O mother, tell me your advice,
Where should I put|the limbs and eyes?
Leave them not|by the corpse or then
Someone might|put them back again.
You'd better take them with you.
Now run, my lad,|show me your zeal,
And take this golden|spinning-wheel,
And sell it in the royal castle,|And this the only price you beg:
Two arms, two eyes, two legs.
Come buy, O maid,|what could compare?
The price my father asks is fair|Two legs are what I ask.
-Two legs?|-The strangest thing.
But I must have it!|Bring it, bring.
Go to the chamber, mother mine,
Where Little Dora's|legs are lying.
And give him them for it.
Come buy, O maid,|what could compare,
The price my father asks is fair|Two arms are what I ask.
If only I that spindle had|For this distaff.
Two eyes, O matron,|nothing else.
For these alone my father sells.
Two eyes are what I ask.
Two eyes? Unheard of.|Tell me rather
Who, my young lad,|might be your father?
You need not know,|you need not mind him.
Who seeks for him|will never find him.
O mother, mother, hear his call!
What will we do? I want it all.
Go to the chamber, mother mine,
Where Little Dora's|eyes are lying,
And let him take them.
You fill my heart|and waking thought,
And look at this wheel|I have bought.
Of spinning-wheels|a make untold,
The spindle,|distaff all of gold.
Oh come and sit, my little dove,
And spin the golden|thread of love.
Vrrr -|that evil thread you weave.
The king you wanted to deceive.
Your step sister|you cruelly slew,
Plucked out her eyes,|hacked her limbs through.
Vrrr - the evil weave.
What kind|of spinning wheel is this?
You play it strangely -|roar and hiss.
Spin, my lady, spin.
The true bride|of the king you slew,
Hacked her limbs through.|Vrrr - the evil weave.
How terribly my lady plays,|You be not how you meet my gaze.
My lady, play it this third time|So I might hear the final rhyme.
Spin, my lady, spin.
Vrrr, vrrr -|that evil thread you weave.
The king you wanted to deceive.
Your sister|to the wolves is bride,
Alone in dark woods|does she bide.
Vrrr - the evil weave...
The evil weave...
The evil weave...
My little Dora, where are you?
Oh where?
I've searched these wide woods.|Don't despair.
Oh where are you, my sweet?|Oh where are you my sweet?
Oh where oh where?
Oh where?
Ho, there go four wolves|through the trees,
Each carries one leg as it flees
From bodies of two women.
What they did|to the maiden first
Was how they|finally were cursed
In woods so dark and deep.
Hail Mary, full of grace,|The Lord is with thee,
Blessed art thou amongst women,
And blessed is the fruit|of thy womb Jesus.
Holy Mary, mother of God,|Prayer for us sinners
Now and at the hour of our death|Amen.
Why are you sad and grey,|my daughter?
Why are you sad and grey?
In past times you were gay,
No laughter now but woe.
I killed a little dove,|O mother.
I killed a little dove,
Alone, bereft of love,
And white as is the snow.
lt was no dove you killed,|my daughter,
lt was no dove you killed.
Your face with sorrow filled,
And troubled is your gaze.
I killed my little child,|O mother.
I killed my little child.
So helpless, meek and mild.
This grief will end my days.
Oh such a deed benighted,
How will you ever right it?
And quell the wrath of God?
I go to find that flower,
I go to find that flower,|To cleanse guiIt is its power,
And cool the raging blood.
And where might be that flower?
In what grove or what bower?
Where in the world so wide?
Beyond the gate up there,|O mother.
Beyond the gate up there.
The nail on that stake bare,
The noose's hempen slide.
What word for that lad|who would come
So much to visit us at home
And used to lie with you?
Of this my blessing him apprise,
Let worms eat his soul|till he dies,
That he was so untrue.
And for your mother what,|my daughter,
And for your mother what?
Who loved you from the cot,
Who loved you, life and limb?
This curse for you I save,|O mother,
This curse for you I save,
That you'll not rest a-grave,
For you gave me to him.
Hum and whirl my spinning wheel,
The end of Advent|soon shall peal,
And closer,|closer Christmas Day.
All hail to Christmas Eve,|You holiday of myth,
What do you bring us all|To recollect you with?
To the master, Christmas bread,|Fodder to his cattle,
To the rooster, cloves of garlic|Peas to hens who prattle.
I am a youthful maid|With heart as yet untaken,
And in my restless mind|Other thoughts awaken.
Yonder, where the forest ends,
And the sluice-gate forms a gap.
Venerable willows stand|Each with a snowy cap.
And there a gnarled old tree|ls nodding and abiding,
And down beneath the ice|The cold blue lake is hiding.
They say when midnight comes|And the moon shines bright above
Within the waters' depth appears|A maiden's future love.
Oh midnight does not frighten me|I scoff at superstition,
And with an axe|I'll chop the ice
And so fulfil my mission.
Deep in the icy waves|I'll gaze with hopeful eyes,
My destined lover to behold|Where his face mirrored lies.
He wears a coat|of dark green cloth,
His hat aslant... O see!
Those flowers to him I brought|It's Václav, Lord! 'Tis he!
I see it through a haze,|A flickering ray that streams
Out of the mist...|Red lights ablaze...
I'm in a church, it seems.
Some black amidst the white,|I see it now... 'Tis clear!
They're maids|and through their light,
My God! A cross and bier.
Written by M.Macourek,
F.A.Brabec,|Deana Jakubisková-Horváthová
Costume designer|Jaroslava Pecharová
Art directors|David Soudek, Milan Popelka
Sound designer|Jiĝí Klenka
Editor Boris Machytka
Music by Jan Jirásek
Director of Photography|& Directed by F.A.Brabec
Producer|Deana Jakubisková-Horváthová
Art Supervision|Juraj Jakubisko
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