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This film (and book) describes fascinating natural landscapes of south Moravia and river Dyje (the area partially protected by UNESCO). It Talks about people and yearly events in the region. This is an unique film documentary which was made within 4 year seasons in places. The stories are characteristic of its poetics, style and beautiful language (+ video HD, 40 min.). videokniha, ISBN 978-80-7487-146-7 , cena 240 Kč.
Ukázka:
On the third day of Creation God said: Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear: and it was so. And God called the dry land Earth; and the gathering together of the waters called He Seas.
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And God saw that it was good.
The Earth brought forth greenery Flowers, of all possible colours and shapes and most diverse scents, bloomed on the succulently fresh green land. Grasses, bushes and trees were all in flower, and the whole new born world gave out a divinely sweet smell.
Amidst of this miraculous wonder of Creation, the Almighty caressed with delight the one place on the beautiful blossoming Earth that He enjoyed most, because it resembled Him and His conception of Creation in the most faithful way.
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As ages went by, the imprint of His almighty hand on the lush land became eroded by icebergs and smoothed down by severe winter frosts and scorching mid-day heats of summer days. Then the land was covered with fine soil, carried by gentle winds and shaped like a vine leaf.
Up to the present day, this womanly, graceful corner of the Universe, so humbly lying between the rivers Dyje and Morava, still resembles a vine leaf.
The vine leaf resembles the shape of a good man’s honest palm, whose lifeline, filled with hard work, planning for the future, has no end.
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The land of the vine leaf will remain here for ever and ever.
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Oh, my beloved, how beautiful you are!
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Where Dyje strolls lazily through oak woods;
where meadows are the colour of the sea in dreams;
where apricot trees bloom instead of rosehips;
where the sun brands ornaments into surfaces of ponds and the people’s faces:
there lies Jenín.
Not far from Pálava;
not far from pagan graves;
above mysterious passages of hapless Habans;
amidst kind slopes, where, from time immemorial,
vine grapes were harvested instead of stones.
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