"Your eyes are dull," the actress told me.
But my passion for freedom still burned bright.
Because life is vast, and you get lost everywhere.
Straight from Versailles!
Quite a gift, huh?
She can travel while she sleeps.
- It's too much, Commander. - Nonsense.
Am I not godfather to Raimondo and this little girl on the way?
- We don't know if it's a girl. - It's a girl.
I know these things.
Nice, huh?
Cry!
Cry and push!
Push!
It's a girl!
I told you, I know these things.
Tomorrow, a big party at my house!
What should we name her?
Parthenope.
Let's call her Parthenope.
Do you agree?
You're a diva.
You didn't answer. Do you agree?
Of course, I do.
A cigarette after a swim in the sea
is way better than after a swim in the pool.
Do you know why, Sandri'?
No. Do you?
I'm still too young to grasp such subtleties.
Raimondo?
Spring has arrived.
So?
They've gone to see Naples get undressed.
Shall we?
May I come inside?
No.
But you may circle the carriage.
Shall we get engaged?
Can you see the future out there?
It's bigger than me and you.
When do you come up with these things?
When I travel...
in my carriage.
What are you thinking about?
Ascione Franco.
Professor, may I go to the restroom?
You come to university having already shit and pissed.
Have a seat.
They say he's so mean because his son is very ill.
What do you know that I don't?
Nothing.
Nothing?
Di Sangro Parthenope.
Check out this hottie!
Good morning.
Gouliane's three main points.
One: the individual. Two: the situation one is in.
Three: the way one copes with it.
- And Althusser? - Althusser is of a different mind.
In line with determinists, structuralists and culturologists,
he sees the anthropological moment as ideological.
- That doesn't interest me. - So, what does?
Gouliane: a culture is a mixture of material and spiritual values
responding to the sum of the existential problems
which, starting from the procurement of food, arrive at artistic creation.
Not only do I agree with this, but I'm also moved.
My comment is so irrelevant it makes you laugh?
You know everything: 30.
I don't know anything, but I like everything.
What don't you know?
- I don't know what anthropology is. - Then, 30 with honors.
Professor Marotta, what is anthropology?
You young people want answers, but you don't know how to ask questions.
- You're not satisfied? - No.
That was merely a clever comeback.
Anthropology is the science that studies human types and aspects
from a morphological and psychological perspective.
That's the correct answer?
No, it's the answer you're allowed.
Lévi-Strauss: first phase.
Thank you.
The Commander always wins.
So, have you decided?
Sorry to disappoint you,
but working for you
and learning my father's job isn't for me.
When your father retires,
you could run my shipping company.
- I'm not like my father. - But you need a job.
Raimondo, you're a grown man now.
Let me work on one of your ships,
one headed to the Baltic Sea, as a deckhand.
You're in the most beautiful place in the world,
why go somewhere cold?
It's impossible to be happy in the most beautiful place in the world.
- For the Commander, without salt. - Porridge, hooray...
Can't we have ragù for once?
It's tradition. My mom was English.
You're from Milan: a cutlet or risotto with ossobuco...
- Parthenope, what're you reading? - John Cheever.
Alcoholic, depressed, marvelous.
You're young,
so why do you bother with American problems?
- Have you started university? - Anthropology.
I got 30 with honors from Professor Marotta, a marvelous man.
When you're young, everything is marvelous,
when you grow up, everything turns dull.
What a burst of optimism!
The certainty of reality makes us dull.
Sasà is so sensible.
He came up with giving
one shoe before voting and the other after.
Great sensibility on that occasion too.
The speeches he writes for me... He's a genius with words and numbers.
I've always showered him with money.
I became mayor of Naples thanks to him.
Where'd you burn yourself?
Let's brave the porridge.
"Brave" is the right word for it.
Porridge is a battle.
How is it?
It tastes like mahogany.
Parthenope, if I were 40 years younger,
would you marry me?
The real question is another.
What?
If I were 40 years older, would you marry me?
You're a sly one.
Your brother Raimondo is fragile.
Like me.
Raimondo sees everything.
Raimondo knows everything.
Done.
Bottom line?
A profit of 1.3 billion.
Sasà, c'mere.
Big party at my house Saturday night.
Who the hell is that?
Arturo...
No, his name's Gianni. One of Parthenope's boyfriends.
What are you kids doing this summer?
Capri.
Real Neapolitans never go to Capri,
they're either too poor or too lazy.
- You're not getting a cent. - I'll manage somehow.
I want to get engaged to Alba Nardella, she always goes to Capri.
- Who's she? - Miss Sexy Legs of Portofino. A goddess.
Shall we go to the beach?
I have to finish my yoga.
Let's go to Capri.
You, me, and Sandrino.
We always say it, but we never go.
- With what money? - The money we don't have.
Where will we sleep?
Wherever.
What a stupid idea.
Let yourself go.
The bar's always open. We're young.
Let yourself go.
Miss.
Given that you're not guests at our hotel,
it's time for you and your brother to vacate the premises.
If she leaves, we're all leaving.
I was joking.
What's wrong, Sandri'?
Where are we gonna sleep tonight?
Who knows.
In the meantime, there's a party at Silvana Piscitelli's.
Miss, excuse me.
He...
He invites you for a picnic.
What a stupid idea.
- He's never heard of restaurants? - What shall I tell him?
That I'm going to a restaurant with my American friend.
If you want to be sure, you should become an actress.
But I'm studying anthropology.
You'd make the perfect diva.
I'm Lidia Rocca, talent agent.
I only represent stars who've made it.
You'd need acting classes.
Here's my number, and that of the best acting teacher in Naples:
Flora Malva.
Call her.
Thanks.
I'll think about it.
He wants to know when you two can meet.
He'd love to take you for a helicopter ride.
He'll have to wait.
How long?
That's the game: no one knows.
Yesterday, in the piazza, Alba Nardella smiled at me.
So, the great man has come down from his helicopter.
Since you wouldn't come up in it...
Will I have to wait much longer?
I'll finish dancing to this song and we'll go.
Alba Nardella?
That's me.
I was looking for you.
And have you found me?
I hope so.
That's my house.
Some shellfish?
Better not.
Apparently, cholera has broken out in Naples, from mussels.
But these are from Normandy.
That's what they tell rich people.
- Do you always have a ready answer? - I try to.
I read and study a lot.
What a good girl.
No.
First, let's look at the summer.
What are you thinking about?
I can't sleep with you merely out of politeness.
Is that the only reason you'd sleep with me?
Politeness?
Don't you find that desire is a mystery,
and sex its funeral?
No, I wouldn't say that.
Anyway, I get it... No problem.
- I've disappointed you. - Really, no problem.
All in all, you're not such a big deal.
Before, at the picnic,
you weren't thinking about anything,
because you're not smart.
Parthe', you're a diva!
No.
Did I do something wrong?
Can we talk a little?
She's not in love with you.
But I am. My whole life.
Why?
Because she's always fleeing.
What is she thinking about?
About always finding the right answer.
Want to dance?
Yes.
Sorry.
Let's get out of here.
What is it?
Cholera.
Cholera has broken out.
What do you want?
I'd like you to be my thesis advisor.
Do you already have a topic in mind?
Yes.
I'd like...
You'd like?
The anthropological reasons for suicide.
Why?
Because...
my brother...
Look at me.
I'll never judge you,
and you'll never judge me.
Do you like this pact?
The topic of suicide doesn't convince me.
- Why not? - It doesn't help us.
I suggest another topic:
the cultural frontiers of the miraculous.
And try not to write a thesis that ends up like this one.
Your father and I got married here.
On the first night of our honeymoon, we conceived Raimondo.
It's your fault.
I know it.
It's your fault.
I'm Parthenope, I have an appointment with Flora Malva.
Wait here. She'll appear, sooner or later.
Ernesto!
Coming.
I love Naples.
I do too.
Wake up, little one. Repeat after me.
I love Naples.
You lack diction and intensity.
Come sit.
Lidia was right, you're provocative, just like me.
I can teach you everything.
Except the one thing we never forget: the sighs of love.
Are you following me?
Yes, I can grasp the concept.
Good, you're insolent. An actress has to be.
- You'll meet Greta Cool. Heard of her? - Of course, who hasn't!
You know Greta Cool is a huge fan of anal sex?
Nothing wrong with that.
She's the most cunning among us,
so cunning she became good-hearted.
My husband, the greatest playwright of the 20th century, revered her.
But he did theater,
and theater was too difficult for her,
so, I took the stage: Flora Malva.
Why do you want to act?
Actors in old movies always have a ready answer.
That's true.
That's how life should be.
Instead, we ruminate all night over the right comeback
we should've said to men who've offended us.
Because beautiful women are constantly being offended.
Will you stay for dinner? My late husband's friends are coming.
- All right. - No one will answer.
Why not?
Her entire contact book is deceased.
Why does she cover her face?
That damn Brazilian plastic surgeon disfigured her.
- Are you inert? - I hope not.
Then never display photos of yourself or count on your beauty,
it enchants for the first ten minutes and irritates for the next ten years.
I'm not hungry anymore. We deserve a cognac.
Wait for me in the living room while I slip into something comfortable.
Christ.
Come in, little one.
Steam is the only thing that soothes my weary skin.
I knew you couldn't resist, and you'd come looking for me.
- I was worried. - No, you were curious.
An actress has a moral obligation to be curious.
As does a woman, otherwise she succumbs.
- Will you kiss me? - What?
You understood perfectly. I haven't kissed anyone in 20 years.
Since I became a widow.
Ernesto has huge teeth.
I tried, but I just can't.
It's like kissing a stone wall.
Well?
I'd like to see your face first.
You'd never kiss me then.
You can see my mouth.
Isn't that enough?
I wouldn't know.
There's no turning back, little one.
We're condemned to letting ourselves go.
I've always had a beautiful mouth.
So many dolls.
Maternity has followed me...
everywhere.
Why don't you start working with the Commander again?
I'm well enough off that I don't have to work anymore.
- You've both gone crazy. - Yes, it's true.
What would bring you back to your senses?
A grandchild.
A grandchild would help us.
What a stupid idea.
Welcome back to your beautiful Naples.
It used to be beautiful.
Madam Cool, I'm Alcide Riposato, the ship owner's son.
Why didn't your father come?
- He died six years ago. - He still could've come.
It's me we're talking about.
There's a surprise for you.
You'd need an atomic bomb to surprise me.
The greatest of them all, the diva of divas!
Here just for you, Greta Cool!
And now, the surprise we promised you.
The sculptor Blue Dragon portrayed you like this.
You see,
the problem isn't that this statue is ugly,
the problem is you Neapolitans.
You're depressed, and you don't know it.
You walk arm in arm with horror, and you don't know it.
You're shabby and folkloristic.
Everyone laughs at you, and you don't realize it.
You pride yourselves on being clever,
but what have you gained from all this cleverness?
You're poor, cowardly, whiny and backward.
You steal and act badly.
And you're always ready to lay the blame on others:
the latest invader, the corrupt politician,
the unscrupulous contractor.
But the real disgrace is you.
You're a city of lowlifes, and your even brag about it.
You're never going to make it.
So, my dear, horrible Neapolitans,
I'm returning to the north,
where beautiful silence reigns.
I haven't been a Neapolitan for years.
I saved myself,
but you didn't.
You're all dead.
One million?
We had agreed on 30, you little freak!
If you did what you were supposed to.
But you belittled and humiliated us. You're an ingrate.
If it weren't for Naples, you'd be turning tricks!
Your mom turned tricks!
How dare you address me informally!
Give me my 30 million, fuck face!
Greta Cool go fuck yourself!
Fuck you!
- Who the hell is it? - I'm Parthenope.
Flora Malva sent me.
What do you want?
I brought you back your hair.
Come in.
Take off your fur.
Have a seat.
You know Flora Malva is a huge fan of anal sex?
Nothing wrong with that.
What a shitty evening.
Vulgar men and coarse women who think they're elegant.
But this city will never be elegant.
Did I overdo it with my speech?
What can I do? I hate returning to this shithole.
It reminds me of being dirt poor.
Kissing a beautiful mouth
and discovering with your tongue there are no teeth.
Penniless love.
That's my only memory of this city.
That and my mother ready to hand me off to anyone.
But we didn't need anything.
Not even teeth.
Penniless love...
Maybe it was better that way.
Flora Malva told me you want to become an actress.
You're beautiful and unforgettable,
but your eyes are dull.
You're joyless and the camera won't accept that.
Forget this crap about becoming an actress.
Besides, do you see me?
Do I seem happy?
And yet, I'm the most important of them all.
Fuck this.
Roberto Criscuolo.
Did you like Greta Cool's speech?
I found it...
original.
Everything she said about this city is true.
"Guess who I am."
"Wait, Robe'."
Roberto.
"You're the king of Naples."
Robe'.
Here he is!
Good evening.
Come here.
How many are you?
One for you.
Look what a cutie she is.
- She's so beautiful! - She looks like the Madonna.
- Like Sophia Loren. - For real.
Roberto, you're back and lookin' dapper.
Motherfucker!
Ciro Criscuolo and Vittoria da Casamicciola
are the future, the hope.
The heir they'll give us will be the symbol of our peace.
From two great families, the Criscuolos and the Casamicciolas,
today the most powerful family of the South will be born.
The great fusion.
And now, you can take your seats.
- Let's have a seat. - What's going on?
- The great fusion. - What's that?
Father, let's begin.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
May God bless you.
Do your best.
Why the fuck you lookin' at me?
Look at her. Kiss each other.
Start touching each other.
I can't, like this.
- Why don't you all go? - This time we've gotta verify it.
Vitto', like I showed you last night.
Five...
Four, three, two, one...
You're shivering?
Are you cold?
No.
I'm moved.
I was born here.
In the water.
What are you thinking about?
I'll be in touch.
Having considered the courses passed
and the evaluation of the final study and thesis defense,
the committee confers your degrees with the following grades.
Giuseppe Arco: 96 out of 110. Elisa Marti: 98 out of 110.
Arturo Bracco: 86 out of 110.
Maria Buono: 90 out of 110.
Parthenope di Sangro: 110 out of 110, with honors,
with committee congratulations, dignity of printing and an academic kiss.
Want to give me my academic kiss?
You graduated late.
They made me believe I could become an actress.
But I graduated with the highest grade.
- Will you rip up my thesis too? - No.
- Is that good news? - Yes.
With some serious research, your thesis could be publishable.
What?
The part on the cultural impact of miracles
on developed societies is great.
I'm glad to hear it, because I've understood one thing.
We've all understood at least one thing.
I'd like to try for a university career. I think it's my path.
You sure? You'll end up like me.
Wouldn't that be wonderful?
No.
You still haven't told me what anthropology really is.
Come see me in May.
Professor.
Thank you.
Come, dear.
Don't worry, it won't take long.
Get undressed.
- Why are you moving? - A higher salary.
After all, I'm just the son of a maid.
No, that's not the reason.
All I have left in this city is guilt.
It's not our fault Raimondo is dead.
- Yes, it is. - No.
It's your fault.
That night, in Capri,
if you hadn't distracted me with your kisses, your caresses,
Raimondo would still be alive.
You should be ashamed for saying that.
My name's Parthenope, I'm never ashamed.
Always clever comebacks, huh?
- You prefer obvious ones? - No.
True ones.
But the truth is unspeakable.
Raimondo was fragile.
He confused the irrelevant with the decisive.
Like everyone in this city.
Except me.
In this city where you live and die for futile reasons.
I hate this city.
You've become ruthless,
presumptuous and cold.
I've grown up.
And maybe, in the end, you've never loved anyone.
You...
you were my first love.
Then maybe one day I'll come back and be your last.
No,
that's not how it will go.
Do you know what will happen?
In Milan, you'll get married,
you'll have a couple of kids.
After a few years, your marriage will be on the rocks,
so you'll call me.
And upon hearing my voice after such a long time,
you'll realize I'm not the cause.
The crisis with your wife will pass, and serenity will return.
And do you know why?
No.
Because it was just young love.
And young love is good for nothing.
It gave us the illusion of lightheartedness.
And what did I just say?
It's good for nothing.
I have to go now.
What is it, Sandri'?
Don't you like me anymore?
I had an illegal abortion, which is why I'm late.
And I killed the dean, which is why I'm early.
Neither of us has an alibi.
But I will never judge you,
and you will never judge me.
Shall we go?
Where?
Help me with exams, my assistants are away.
I don't think I can.
As an expert on the subject, you can. Teaching is easy.
"A professor only needs to be one lesson ahead of his students."
- You know who said that? - No.
Billy Wilder, an anthropologist.
I don't remember much, I took the class years ago.
You have the textbook. They don't.
Choose three questions, and then decide their grade.
You'll enjoy it.
Let's go, it's late.
Thank you, goodbye.
Esposito Lucia.
Good morning.
Lévi-Strauss's concept of structure.
Yeah...
- I'll come back next semester. - Give me your grade booklet.
30 with honors.
Thank you!
Do you plan on using this peculiar method of grading
even after you become a full professor?
No.
Why did you pass that girl instead of having her return next semester?
By next semester, she'll have a baby.
She'd never have come back.
I'd never have come back either, if it weren't for you.
Let's hope I don't live to regret it.
You won't, if you make me one of your 150 assistants.
Hi, Marotta.
Hi, Sartre!
Intellectuals in black turtlenecks should all be shot.
Go easy throwing around hatchets,
or someone will throw one back at our heads.
Then let's just say that Restelli is verbose and pompous.
Pompous, for sure.
When he got divorced, he told me, "A schism has been consummated."
And what about your wife?
I know nothing about her.
She left me years ago for a happy notary. What an oxymoron!
- She regretted it, obviously. - And you got back together?
No, because in the meantime, I discovered
I enjoyed dedicating all my time to my son.
They said your son...
How did your brother die?
He let himself go.
And you? Have you let yourself go?
How long has it been since your father hugged you?
I don't remember anymore.
Since your brother died.
- Do you want to hug me? - Yes.
- I have to talk to you. - Me too.
It's private, so I prefer we meet at my house.
Fine.
I live with my son.
All right.
Don't ask me anything.
Okay.
What did you want to tell me?
The Journal of Anthropology
asked me to write an essay on the miracle of San Gennaro.
I said yes. It seems interesting.
I asked for a meeting with Tesorone.
I know him well. Be careful, he's a scoundrel.
- In what sense? - In every sense.
And what did you want to tell me?
I'm going to retire soon.
- That's not good news for me. - Yes, it is.
There's an upcoming competition for a chair at Trent University.
I'd like you to enter.
You could win.
You'd spend a couple years in Trent,
and then take my place in Naples.
What do you think?
I love Naples.
- And what about your assistants? - They won't become full professors.
They can stay on as your assistants, if you want.
- But I'm an assistant too. - No.
You are something else.
You take after me.
Why are you doing all this for me?
Because you could become an excellent anthropologist.
Even if you still don't know what anthropology is.
And now,
the real reason
I had you come here.
I'd like to introduce...
Watch out for Tesorone.
That man is the devil.
I've fuckin' had it with this miracle.
Every year, all this responsibility on me.
Always the same old story.
And if the blood doesn't liquefy, whose fault is it?
Mine, obviously.
You can't imagine the stress.
No, I can see it.
What's stress got to do with hair dying?
This is a hobby. Don't you have one?
- No. - Not having a hobby is a hobby itself.
You work with Marotta, right?
How is he?
Hard to tell.
He's less mysterious than he'd like you to believe,
he just has a problematic son.
- You're more mysterious, right? - Without a doubt.
I'm a priest.
I found you a nice spot to watch the miracle.
You won't miss a thing.
You're leaving? You're not gonna show me San Gennaro's treasure?
No time! I've gotta see the ampoule.
San Gennaro!
You performed the miracle!
Thank you, my saint, for choosing me!
Get that shrew out of here immediately!
Out!
Get out!
They'll invent anything, even a fake menstrual cycle.
Anything to take the attention away from me.
- From San Gennaro. - No, from me.
I'm exhausted, destroyed.
- Beyond tired. - As if you had to perform the miracle.
Who says that's not the case?
I'm sorry the blood didn't liquefy.
It will liquefy next year.
Want a tour of the cathedral?
Christ loves too much,
and is bent by his own love.
That's how love is, it's unmanageable.
Which is why, from Jesus to singer-songwriters,
they all try to tell us how to come to terms with it.
Do you love too much or too little?
That's the only real difference.
All the doors are fake.
- I need some air. - It's Catholicism.
Freedom doesn't enter through doors.
- And where does it enter? - It doesn't.
Are you gonna show me San Gennaro's treasure?
No time now.
I'm headed to a party, wanna come?
All the times you wanted to cry,
but you held back your tears,
here, only here, in church,
you have the freedom to let yourself go.
Why should I cry?
Because maternity has followed you everywhere,
and you ran from it.
- Do you like this house? - I know it well.
Your Eminence,
I'm so dismayed that we can't celebrate the miracle.
What the hell happened?
Nothing of importance.
An exhibitionist, a shrew,
decided to put on a spectacle.
San Gennaro got distracted and didn't come through.
If you get a chance, bring me a nice drink.
Mom!
Years ago, on New Year's Eve,
I saw you.
You were making love in the water.
It wasn't me.
Yes, it was you...
Parthenope.
What are you thinking about, Your Eminence?
About my mother.
She knew everything.
When you know everything, you die young and alone,
you get acquainted with the unspeakable.
It's dizzying.
God is finite.
He hasn't entertained us enough.
God only tried hard when he invented the happy childhood,
where everything was gentle purity.
Then he got distracted, he let himself go,
so the world we knew as children,
suddenly and without warning,
wore itself out.
Worlds...
Worlds grow tired.
But enough now, girls,
I need a drink, I'm exhausted.
Parthenope.
Commander, you recognized me.
It was impossible to forget you.
Remember how you wanted to marry me?
We're still in time, if you want.
You move too fast for my tastes.
I'd need a long courtship.
Long courtship, my ass.
You're a sly one.
A really sly one.
You're a rare woman.
Why?
Because you don't take advantage of your beauty.
You're wrong.
No.
How are your parents?
When your brother died, they died as well.
And I lost myself.
I've done my mingling.
Now I'm ready to show you San Gennaro's treasure.
Tesorone's treasure?
At the end of life, only irony will remain.
What a stupid idea.
I look like a reliquary.
You look like a saint.
What's your favorite part of a woman?
Her back. The rest is pornography.
You should give yourself to me, Parthenope.
Really? Why's that?
Because my body's made to be rejected,
so rejecting me is the obvious choice.
And you, on the other hand, are a surprising woman.
I am an obvious woman.
You always have a ready answer.
All right, I'll settle for remembering you like this.
For dreaming of you.
If I were to give myself to you,
it wouldn't be in order to surprise,
but because I like you.
What do you like about me?
Your insolence.
I call it the art of seduction.
Want to know what I'm thinking about?
No,
because I already know.
And what am I thinking about?
About everything else.
You're like the miracle of San Gennaro:
a mystery.
Or a fraud.
Now let's make love.
Don't be in a rush.
One needs to slowly approach...
God.
The conclave is coming up,
I'll be too close to God to keep seeing you.
What a shame!
But what can be done?
I've got it in my head to become pope.
What was the "everything else" I was thinking about?
The time that flows alongside pain.
Or maybe not.
How'd it go with Tesorone?
You were right, he's the devil.
He's merely a seducer.
I wanted to tell you that the time has come:
I'm retiring.
I'm sure the university will throw you a big party.
I've never loved parties.
Have you thought about the position in Trent?
I can't become an anthropology professor
if I don't know what anthropology is.
Anthropology is seeing.
That's it?
It was that simple?
I feel like I've been doing that my whole life.
It's very difficult to see,
because it's the last thing we learn.
When do we learn to see?
When everything else starts to fade.
What's everything else?
Love, youth,
desire,
emotion, pleasure,
and the remote possibility of laughing again
over a distinguished man who trips and falls on the street.
- Now come with me. - Where?
To see.
Dad, they said asshole.
Yes, Stefano, the man said asshole.
- He's made of water and salt. - Like the sea.
He's beautiful.
Yes, he's beautiful.
Farewell, Parthenope.
I'll never forget the oral exam for your class.
I asked if I could go to the restroom and you said,
"You come to university having already shit and pissed."
And him? A boyfriend?
How much longer?
Full-term in two days.
Have you chosen a name?
If it's a girl, I'd like to name her after you:
Parthenope.
No.
We know nothing about your private life.
There's not much to know.
We'd like to know, just the same.
Can we ask you a few indiscreet questions?
Yes, of course.
You could've stayed in Trent two years and then gone back to Naples,
but instead you stayed here until your retirement.
Why?
As you can see, I fell in love with speck.
Why didn't you ever marry?
No one ever asked me for real.
And kids?
Sorry.
I got distracted,
or maybe I didn't know how to ask myself the right questions.
And now?
What will you do?
Now...
Parthe'.
What are you thinking about?
Abandoned to the perfect summer,
we were beautiful and unhappy.
Maybe it was marvelous being young.
It didn't last long.
I was sad and frivolous,
determined and listless,
like Naples,
where there's always a place for everything.
I was alive and alone.
What was I thinking about?
Love, in order to survive...
Love, in order to survive,
has been a failure.
Or maybe not.
One day out of the blue
I fell in love with you
My heart was beating fast
Don't ask me why
Much time has gone by
And I'm still here
And now just like before
I defend the city...
And besides, God doesn't love the sea.
Remember, God doesn't love the sea.
So long.