The Sufferings and Renaissance of Belgium. A contemporary allegory Skobelev Committee Military-Cinematic Dpt.
Director: Vladislav Starevich Text: Boris Martov
A dear girl, a tiny girl, ran into a wood gathering flowers and mushrooms...
And she found a pale, tragic dying flower.
The mite's dignified old grandpa studied the mysteries of life and the sciences.
And he waited for his beloved granddaughter to return from her walk in the woods, with a mischievous smile, as always.
"Tell me about the Lily", she asks nicely. Her eyes burning with attention.
The old man smiled and, sighing sadly, began telling the story of the Lily of Belgium.
Beautiful, stately, the pure Lily Flowered above the limpid stream.
A shady creek protected her... The sun cossetted her in its rays.
By day there flew around the Lily Armies of honey-bees and bumble-bees,
A variegated butterfly fluttered by, Swarms of dragonflies began to dance.
In the evening, from the sedgy bank, Her croaking friends floated to her
With a little grasshopper, tenderly, They sang her sweet hymns of spring.
Ah! But the stately Lily knew not That among the marsh and rotten roots
Lived beetles, evil servants of violence, Malignantly hiding from the bright rays.
Their leader, a bearded beetle, Often summoned them to a secret council
And told them that their sure defence Was the fist, symbol of eternal victory.
Our lands are too small for our forces, We must wage war on our neighbours
And make them serve us, the beetles! Go boldly forth!.. Follow me to victory!..
So the black army moved against their neighbour.
The bright Lily stood in their path. "Away, Lily! Our destiny is victory!
Let us through to the enemy's realm!" The free Lily flared up in anger:
"Foul specter, I will not obey you!" "Death to her!" said the violent leader.
He put everything to fire and the sword!
The white Lily fell in sacrifice, And the fire of war flowed.
The furious beetles broke through. The holy places of the land perished.
In its anger, nature, to save the holy places, Sends cold waves against the foes.
Making a desert of the Lily's country, It prepares destruction for the beetles.
"Grandad, what happened to poor Lily? Will she never flower again?"
"No, my dear, the power of victory Will resurrect joy on her Calvary."
"Know that faithful beauty will conquer, The Lily is broken, but the root lives.
Time will pass and once more, undecaying, The bright Lily will flower again!"
Her wondrous raiment will shine again, Hymns will resound to youthful spring,
And the blessed forces of heaven Will heal her holy wounds!"
THE END (subtitles - ? and Niffiwan)