I Even Met Happy Gypsies (Skupljaci perja) (Скупљачи перја)

I MET A HAPPY GIPSY, TOO

Hop in, Tisa, you'll get soaked.

Are you running away again? - No, I was at my aunt's.

Mirta sent me. - Like hell he did!

Mirta says you want to be a cafe singer. Is that true?

I'm not ashamed of that. I don't want to tend geese all my life.

Has Mirta plucked the geese yet?

Not yet, they're not ready.

Has he got a buyer? - I don't know and I don't care.

What do you care about? Boyfriends?

That's none of your business. - You are my business.

Look at yourself! You belong in a feather bed.

Shut up, you dirty Gypsy!

You're a dirty Gypsy yourself!

Don't worry, there'll be plenty left over for your bride-groom.

My taxi is not a bordello. - Shut up and drive!

The driver's right, leave me alone!

I know him. He's just teasing.

See, I got you home safely. I didn't bother you.

Stop roaming around. It's more dangerous than you think.

Tell Mirta to stay out of my territory.

I'll stay out of his. There's plenty to go around Vojvodina.

Can you give me 50 dinars, please?

What's it for? - Thanks. A new scarf.

These geese are well-taken care of.

Their feathers are the best quality.

A goose is a goose, mother, and I know what I can pay.

That's too much!

At least pay as much as ?er?. - How can I?

I have to make a profit.

I can't sell them for less than what ?er? offered.

We have to stay with our price.

If you need money, we could give you a loan.

Mother, you know very well that geese always grow new feathers.

The sooner you pluck them, the faster they'll grow.

Do you mean it, about the loan? Do you have it on you?

Don't you worry, mother, just pluck those feathers.

Leave it, we'll pour our own.

20.000, and that's generous. - You make five times that amount.

Bora, what's the idea? - Did you see those under-nourished geese?

Only a sucker like me would buy them. - Give me 30.000.

They're quality church geese. They're on special food.

Milan?e, tell me if it's right that Bora gives me only 30.000.

That's none of his business. He's police.

That's why I want his opinion. Milan?e, come here a minute.

Sit down, Bora is buying.

You can only drink with a Gypsy, or throw him in jail.

We're no more crooked than anyone else.

We're only trading, doing business.

Take a seat. - She'll skin you alive!

Not me, I can handle her.

Music!

...1, 2, 3, 4... - Shut up! The baby's sick!

You drunken bastard! I should scratch your eyes out!

Let him be. He's so drunk, he won't know the difference.

Not while he's here. Tomorrow, after he's gone. - Come on!

Don't cry. I'll help you bury her.

?er?, what are we going to do?

The child hasn't even been baptised. How can I bury her?

Don't worry.

The Lord giveth and taketh away.

We'll bury her this afternoon. - I don't want that!

She's my first-born and she has to be baptised! - All right!

I'll manage somehow, no matter how much it costs.

Hello, Gypsy.

Have any more antiques arrived?

How about the antique desk? Did you keep it for us?

Hey you crook, when are you going to join the working class?

A crooked gypsy or a crooked worker. What's the difference?

Mother, I brought you a child to baptise.

Please, it's urgent!

I can't baptise a dead child or bury it.

I bought all your feathers and lent you the money.

Do it as a favour. We may need each other.

Hey, old man, open up in there!

Open up! - Why are you shouting?

?andor, we have money to spend.

You'll earn more, than picking up carpets.

Get the cards out! - Who's going to deal?

Sit down, old man, and take your percentage. - No more than usual.

All aboard, I'm driving!

Count what's on the table. That's my bet.

Damn it!

It looks like I'm out of gas! Toot, toot!

I'll bet the minimum.

Give me another 2, for the lot. - Not enough.

Is that all you've got?

How's this?

It's Swiss. - All right.

Of all the damn luck! - That's rough, Bora!

I had 12, and you had 10. - Look out for the curve!

You've got no more money. - Lend me 5.000. - No.

Take my shirt and shoes. They're yours if I don't pay.

And the jacket.

Here's 5.000.

One card.

The end of the line!

You've lost everything, you good-for-nothing!

You've ruined me and my children and sold everything. What for?

You good-for-nothing drunkard! You lousy Gypsy bastard!

You kept on losing, until you lost the shirt of your back!

How are we going to eat?! I spit on you, you pig!

That's enough, Bora! She should have scratched your eyes out!

You're a no good gambler. You should have sold your head.

Go and buy more feathers. They have feathers in Padina.

With what? - You'll find a way.

You'll find the money, somehow.

You pig! You've taken everything from the house! - Enough!

Give me back my T.V. Set, you lousy bastard! - Shut up!

Shut up, or I'll kill you! I've had enough!

You've ruined me! You lousy drunkard, scum!

Brothers and sisters, today's sermon will be from St Matthew.

I will speak Serbian, so that our Serbian brothers can understand.

The man came, paid me well, then took them away.

Was he a Gypsy? - I don't know.

He was dark, like you.

Where was he from? - Stop asking me questions!

Try to remember! I've always paid you well.

Tell me who he is. - Who, Mirta? - The sorter?

Why didn't you say he was here!

You only asked me where he came from, not his name.

You're in my territory, Mirta! They're not your feathers!

Who says? - We decided to split the villages between us!

Look at the list! - I can't read. I could wipe myself with it.

You can't read, but you can listen!

Ba?inci, Debelja?a, Gospo?inci...

Count them together with me! Ten for you and ten for me!

Ba?inci, Debelja?a, Gospo?inci...

Now, your ten. Dobanovci, Bogojevci, Sonta...

See, an equal split!

You should have known that Padina is mine!

You're right. I was wrong.

I can't return the feathers, I sold them.

I'll stay in Apatin.

I'll advance you the money. Buy the feathers, instead of me.

We'll split the profit. - Are you trying to con me?

Your father conned your mother!

You take my territory, and split the work.

You get the feathers, I'll sort and sell them.

Bring two pitchers of wine, for Bora and me!

Enough, already!

He pinched me again!

Hey, Tisa, why are you looking so sad?

What are you doing up so late? - Sing us a song! - I can't.

I thought you wanted to be a singer. Well, sing then!

"As I travelled on my long journey,

I met a happy Gypsy, too"

That's enough! Go home!

You've plenty to do do for your wedding!

Can't you give me a moment of peace?

I'm waiting for you to get rich. - It won't be long now.

Forget about her, Bora. Here's 5.000. Now sing for us!

I'll never play again! I'm sticking to music!

..."As I travelled on my long journey"...

..."I met a happy Gypsy, too"...

..."Hey, Gypsies!"...

..."Hey, people!"...

Get up, you drunken bastard! Can you hear me?

You Gypsy bastard! How much did you drink?

Bora, help me!

My sister would kill me, if I left him here. He's so drunk!

Let's get him into the cart.

Into the garbage cart, you Gypsy bastard!

You can't wipe your own nose and you want to get married!

Ru?a! Take this!

I'm going away on business.

Who owns this flock of geese? - The one up front.

Behind the coffin? - Further to the front.

There's no one in front of the coffin. - What about in it?

God rest our departed master's soul. - Bloody master!

Where are the heirs?

In front, leading the mourners.

To each his due.

Here's to the souls of the dead.

And for the living, how about selling me your feathers.

You don't have money for my flock. - I do. How much?

What should the price be? - 100.000 and no less.

What'll we do, if we don't sell?

Sell them another day.

100.000 and they'll be plucked by tomorrow.

Too much! - You won't find such down!

1 kilo of feathers, a piece.

Every Gypsy, when trading his horse, sings his praise.

Anything less, no deal. - Forget it then.

I don't carry that much money on me.

Wait a minute! Wait, my friend!

Dear Lord, stop running like an express train!

You'll never be able to do business with those peasants.

Come, I'll show you something.

Feathers, lots of feathers!

You must be married, a young fellow like you.

I bet you were married Gypsy style and not in a church.

People aren't virtuous, nowadays. So, a priest has nothing to do.

When was the last time you thought of your soul?

Bring your wife and I'll marry you properly.

Praise be God! You want some?

You Gypsies drink like fish.

To you, Bora. You must have your marriage blessed.

Listen to Pavle, a poor priest. - Are you a priest, or not?

Of course! - I don't give a damn about priests! - Don't swear!