High Lama:
Yes, of course, your brother is a problem. It was to be expected.
Robert Conway:
I knew you'd understand. That's why I came to you for help.
High Lama:
You must not look to me for help. Your brother is no longer my problem. He is now your problem, Conway
Robert Conway:
Mine?
High Lama:
Because, my son, I am placing in your hands the future and destiny of Shangri-La... for I am going to die. I knew my work was done when I first set eyes upon you. I have waited for you, my son, for a long time. I have sat in this room and seen the faces of newcomers. I have looked into their eyes and heard their voices - always in hope that I might find you . My friend, it is not an arduous task that I bequeath, for our order knows only silken bonds. To be gentle and patient, to care for the riches of the mind, to preside in wisdom, while the storm rages without.
Robert Conway:
Do you think this will come in my time?
High Lama:
You, my son, will live through the storm. You will preserve the fragrance of our history, and add to it a touch of your own mind. Beyond that, my vision weakens. But I see in the great distance a new world starting in the ruins - stirring clumsily - but in hopefulness, seeking its vast and legendary treasures. And they will all be here, my son, hidden behind the mountains in the Valley of the Blue Moon, preserved... as if by a miracle...
[he dies]
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05/03/2025 alle ore 08:26
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