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Director: Jordan Scott & Ridley Scott goo.gl/u0Mw7
Based on the poem “The Thunder, Perfect Mind”
Producers: Jules Daly, Max Brun & Fran Mcgivern
Director Of Photography: Philippe Le Sourd
Costumes By: Miuccia Prada
Choreographer: Blanca Li
Make Up: Lisa Eldridge
Line Producer: Maria Gallagher
Editor: Dayn Williams
Composer: John Altman
Location: Berlin
Suddenly, from all the green around you,
something-you don’t know what-has disappeared;
you feel it creeping closer to the window,
in total silence. From the nearby wood
you hear the urgent whistling of a plover,
reminding you of someone’s Saint Jerome:
so much solitude and passion come
from that one voice, whose fierce request the downpour
will grant. The walls, with their ancient portraits, glide
away from us, cautiously, as though
they weren’t supposed to hear what we are saying.
And reflected on the faded tapestries now;
the chill, uncertain sunlight of those long
childhood hours when you were so afraid.
I prefer this street in complete nudity
With its clouds falling
So immensely heavy on its naked arms
The sweeping lady shoos them away, weeping
Shreds them apart in tonal crumbled clusters
For me to pick up before the dawn
To eat mulberries from its forlorn tree
Cream colored mulberries trodden near our door
You tell me good morning with your cloudy voice
When the sky whimpers from the sudden light
Then you’re absorbed in silent
And the lonely drunkard hobbles down the street
Endlessly crossing the motionless sea
The vastness of which has seduced our roof
But you want to tell me
That a ship will come
And grate ochre mountains
Bringing the dead birds of the long gone rain.
Ani Boghossian©