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March of The Penguins (2005)

(Emilie Simon) "All is white"

All is white

I think it snowed in the night

Everything is cold So cold outside

I listen to the wind All alone

I know it means the storm will come

I want to live in paradise

I want to live in the South

I want to live in paradise

At the south of the earth tonight

All is white I know it snowed in the night

Everything is cold So cold outside

I try to be calm It's a lonely trip

Listen to my eyes Listen to my lips

I want to live in paradise

I want to live in the South

I want to live in paradise

At the south of the earth tonight

Once upon a time a garden

A fertile world where life was a given

A long time ago - before winter

But one day, everything was blanked

plants, animals

Those who could flee

did so, but our ancestors decided to stay.

At any cost

And to resist tothis frost which was taking everything

Time has passed

100 times, Earth has changed its face

We are still there

We stand, light sentinels.

Here is our story.

March of The Penguins

Where are the others?

I feel dizzy leaving the Ocean.

Here we are, our two feets in the snow,

in this country too large for us.

Are we all here?

Everybody's here?

A day passes, and another...

and the third day...

We gathered all here today,

from the straightest to the hunchbakcs, all of us

Waiting for the signal

The signal...

...comes at last.

In this great day, One third into the year,

when the moon and the sun meet at half day,

we, swimmers, stand up and start to walk.

Our kind is forever shared between

the ocean which feeds us

and on the other side

beyond the great plain the ice covered ocean,

...a meeting.

We've got a rendez vous.

Now standing up

we walk, like nomads,

we walk one day, two days

ten days, twenty days.

The same number of nights the same number of cold nights

Here comes the time of the first walk

The walk of the long caravans

Above us, the sky's paths are shining

The sun, the stars draw eternal maps

Under our feets, Earth's heart humms...

Humms its beautiful magnetic fields

Each year, our trek takes a new turn

Icebergs are like giant tramps

They sleep wherever winter catches up with them!

Sometimes we have to make long detours

Going around the sleeping titans.

But even the oldest amongst us

cannot remember ever being lost

Despite the cold engulfing the plain

despite the dreamy mountains' walls

caravans from all 4 corners of the horizon

are gathering - nearly the same day

at the same time, at the same place.

As if by magic.

10 days pass and thousands of steps

And another 10 days another thousands of steps

...and one morning

Our people gets to the end of the trip

Here are the stone doors that witnessed our birth

Since the dawn of times

It's here, on the Oamock (river?) that we meet

every year to give life.

No place is safer

Protected by granite walls

and the ice beneath our feet

will not break until summer.

No more order, no more steps we all freely roam the crowd

...looking for our soulmate.

Love songs cover the Oamock

We marry for the whole year

to a single partner.

Every yearit's the same. As soon as we arrive...

...it's slapping time.

More females than males!

Females fierciously fight for us

A new couple? They intervene.

A married male is a lost male...

So they dive in, push their way in.

Other couples wait.

Those who, like us

have already found each other...

...isolate themselves in the intimacy of songs and parades.

Our nuptial dance is opening the big winter's bal

(Emilie Simon) "The Frozen World"

Won't you open for me

The door to your ice world

To your white desert

I just want to stare

Out over these snow fields

Until we are one again

We belong to

the frozen world

When the ice

begins to thaw

Becomes the sea

You will see

How beautiful we can be

You will see

How beautiful we

can be

Everything is cold

At the end of the planet

In our white desert

The sun kissed the ice

It glistens for me

And we are one again

We belong to the frozen world

When the ice

begins to thaw

Becomes the sea

You will see

How beautiful we

can be

We are going to dance for the longest of winters

We'll lose and find each other for 9 months

If our ballet is harmonious, we shall survive

Too bad for those who couldn't follow

those who are erring, lost,

those who are late or weak.

At the desert's mercy, far from the Oamock's granite walls

Without the groups' strength, the solitary is condemned.

Those the march forgot slowly fade.

Here, white reigns -what dies ...is erased.

Already, winter's first tears come.

Soft tears, like souvenirs from the sea

Love was proclaimed,

Love was made,

all those around us keep quiet.

In the warmth of our bodies, a promise of life starts

A moon passes and we wait.

A moon passes and we wait.

Another moon and we wait.

Another moon and we wait.

Comes the 3rd moon, the time has come.

With our feathers, we have to cover life the moment it appears

...hide it.

Cold is everywhere

This mini heart's tremor, hidden in its shell

is so vulnerable in this huge ice land.

Here, you need much more life to create life.

From now on, each of our move aims at one single thing:

keep him alive.

I'm worn out.

I need to go back to the sea, eat to keep

my body awake.

Yet, before, I need to give the egg to his father.

Life contained in the egg won't resist the frost's bite

No more than a few seconds

Some couples, like this one - they must be young -

are too nervous

Frost bites and breaks

the treasure of the hurried,

the clumsy, the unlukcy.

Their dance is over,

their year is lost.

Now without an aim, they'll go,

in an errand towards the ocean.

100 times, we patiently repeat the dance...

...before passing the egg.

Again and again, we repeat the litany

of our songs, of our charms.

Again and again, we repeat the litany

of our songs, of our charms.

In our dance's balancing act

lies the perfect movement

This little step, this little step.

I'm leaving,

I have to walk to the ocean.

I'll stay with our egg, I will cover it.

My belly's warmth will protect until your return.

Go back to the ocean and its food feasts.

And make sure you're back in time,

too feed our soon-to-born baby.

We'll wait for you.

It's time for the 2nd walk, the march at dawn.

For the first time, dancers separate.

I'm starving.

Our food is over there, beyond the desert.

Yet only here, on the Oamock's solid ice...

can our baby be born.

We'll go to the sea, they'll stay here.

They'll walk, we'll wait.

Two month...

of misery, and fight to try to...

...preserve life.

For the last few days, the sky above darkens.

The sun, the mountains, the settings change.

It's like hearing winter preparing its first blow.

We look like circus artists with this egg on our feet.

We're now a single body rolling itself

like a storm roll.

We'll hold.

Same winter - we walk again and again

Cruel irony, on the ocean's back

we're looking for the door.

Here, under the ice, fishes swim.

Here, on the ice, the storm blows.

The starving walkers suffer.

The smell of water...

We can smell the water.

The entrance isn't far.

Here we are.

The ocean at last!

Caress of the water,

everywhere, the light shows the way to the abyss.

Over there, past the blue gateway to the deep,

...the table is ready.

"Song of the sea"

See

how I fly

In the sea

Like in the sky

You set me free

Sometimes, the wind leaves a bit of fresh snow for us

...it quenches our thirst.

3 months without any food!

We defy winter and reach life's limits.

Some pass the border, they fall asleep, slowly.

White spreads little by little over their body,

which disappear forever.

Nightime

...we crawl under the storms, cold rules.

It has no name.

We hold without failing, under the mother of all blizzards

melded together, a single body, like the scale

...of turltes are fitted.

Night's daughters wear their best veils.

They run

...under the stars, dance to the wind's song.

Be courageous, enslaved people, this dance is going

To the sky's limit, looking for the sun who forgot us.

How soft is

the sea's water!

We enjoy the ocean as long as we can.

But on the Oamock, life will soon need us.

With a single jawbite, the monster erased two lives

...the life of the trapped mother and that of her baby

who will never be fed.

We are still petrified by terror.

Around us, the night has the smell of frost

we remember the ice's noise

so different from the ocean's songs

It's time for the return

time for the 3rd march, the walk of the moon.

In the endless night, we find our way to our land of cold.

We bring back lots of food to feed our babies.

People are waiting for us.

We have to hurry.

Our gaping night takes forever

...and get bogged, a 100 days long night,

filled with cold and turmoil.

Yet... this morning... something...

...sparkles in the air.

The light is back.

We have vainquished winter.

Life...

so small, so beautiful, unreal in this cold that erodes us.

We reached the summit of our torment.

From now on, each day will bring a stronger sun,

which frees the youngs from their shells.

Where are they?

But where are they?

How long have we been going around like that?

Dawn's first glow has awaken winter.

It enrages, it increases.

Cold is so strong that it finally...

...froze the wind.

It tighten its grip on us, locks us stronger,

...clenches stronger.

So we turn, so as not to be too exposed to the cold

...our back to the cold.

Heat exists, at the turtle's hearth, hidden under the heads.

At our feet, babies appear, always more plentiful.

Where are they?

As soon as they hatch out, the babies are hungry.

The mothers have to come back!

In this cold, their energy fades so quickly.

And I am exhaused, 4 months without any food.

I am empty.

Barely enough to walk another 20 days.

20 days... the eternity that separates us from the ocean.

So this evening, if his mother hasn't come back,

...I'll have to go, abandon my child.

But before we give up, there's still a chance.

The hidden part, a few crumbles...

...preserved deep inside my body,

...despite these months of starvation.

A few more hours of life. I had kept them...

...for you, in expecation of this moment.

Who will win? Life or winter?

For some, it's already too late.

We walk, and in us, life shrieks:

Hurry up! Hurry up!

He, she, is born, needing you,

He, she will not hold for long, now.

Frightened for no reason, a lot of wasted time.

We push our speed.

The wind brings puffs of familiar scents.

The colony's not far, faster!

The Oamock, at last!

Who will I find?

Is my baby dead? Is he or she still alive?

Where in this crowd are you?

Where are you?

This voice... This chant coming towards me...

This baby calling, is he or she mine?

Come on, sing!

You did hold!

You came back in time!

You are still here.

And you, I only meet you now, my marvelous son of the winter,

...my little baby.

Do you remember the dance, our songs in the times of love?

Here they are again...

...renewed to celebrate your return.

I must take our child, and you must leave hastilly.

A short moment, a precious moment.

Within one step, we'll be separated,

...Soon we'll be 1,000 winters apart, let's make the most of it!

Another instant.

Youngster, listen carefully to my voice

...thanks to my voice you'll recognise me one day.

I'd like to be able to promise I'll come back.

It's my turn to leave.

My strength desert me, I have to complete...

...the most dangerous part of the trip:

the march of the starved ones.

The ultimate march,

the march which decimates us every year.

Here it comes at last - renewal.

Slowly, light blossoms on the Oamock.

Like the sun, our youngs grow stronger day by day.

But summer is still far.

No way we'll let our youngs out.

They are so frail, They need...

our warmth.

Around us,

frost lurks.

10 days pass by then 10 more days.

And one beautiful morning...

I am going for my first walk by myself!

Oh, it's like a nettle...

under the paw (clawed feet)!

I'm cold! It's funny, it tickles!

Here, my first walk, the march of the free chick!

Cold is bringing them back under our paws.

But they made...

...the great jump. A page of their life has been turned.

We haven't seen snow running like that.

Adults sqeeze together, they are worrying.

This wind is no bearer of good news.

The dying winter is kicking us...

...with it last blizzard.

We think cold lost its arrogance,

but our youngs think otherwise. They'll have to be strong.

The time of their initiation has come.

It's the dreaded moment of their first turmoil.

Can't you hear my storm coming Stones falling on to you

Can't you feel the earth shaking Big dark clouds forming now

And I hope you're satisfied

I hope you're satisfied

I hope you're satisfied

To see the wind

blow over me

Can't you hear my sky shouting

Close, chasing after you

Deep, dark fear building up It's too strong for you

And I hope you're satisfied

I hope you're satisfied

I hope you're satisfied

To see the wind

Blow

over me

Can't you hear my storm coming

Stones falling

Big dark clouds

forming now

The wind leaves, on its trail, mothers looking for their child.

Trembling lost chicks.

And a harvest of lost lives, swept away by the cold.

All these efforts broken by a gust of wind.

Some find it unbearable.

They need a child, at any price.

Life has to keep on growing on their feet.

So, they perpetrate the most inconceivable act.

In a moment of crazyness, the steal...

...someone else's child.

That was just! I thought they would crush me!

You saved me!

It feels good to be close to you.

Happy birthday, short legs! One month ago...

...we were hatching out of our shells, now we run.

Not bad, innit?

We don't even need our mothers to get warm.

Sometimes, we'd really like to...

...go under the warm duvet.

There's always one or two who slouch in the pockets.

They pretend to be cold, but for them, same system:

Stand up, your two paws on the ice, and walk!

When time's up, time is up!

Now, we are in-de-pen-dent!

When we are cold, there's the child care centre.

Not bad, we aggregate and keep warm.

A bit like our fathers making a big turtle.

But it's hard to stay in place.

I'm going to have to leave you alone, I'll be back quickly.

I need to go and fish to nourish you.

You'll stay here, your father should be there soon.

You'll recognise his chant.

He'll recognise yours.

I'm not too fond of staying alone.

Wait! I'm a little bit afraid.

Alert!

The long wings are coming! Hurry, to the day care centre!

Oh! What about those ones, left alone over there!

It's over for that one. She'll never see the sea.

Here they come! The fathers are back!

Is my father with them?

Yes, it's him, I'm know it. Yes, it's you, I know it.

Adults keep on going and coming back.

They have two sides:

The white one, it's the full bellies coming back.

The black one, empty bellies leaving.

As for us, front or back, we are grey.

We are always hungry!

Sometimes come days we can't even dream of.

For weeks, we have fed our kid...

...separated, never meeting up.

And here we are, reunited by the finest of all hasards.

Our kid is strong, our kid is lovely.

On the wake of the last march,

let's promise to meet for next season...

...to dance again, maybe tie the knot...

...for another winter.

It's been a few days, it's always sunny...

...and there's no night. The icefield groans,

...it looks like it wants to leave.

It's time to depart.

The ocean calls me, it will call you soon.

To life, little son of winter, to life!

There ends our last march.

The separation march, that of the return...

...to the sea. We leave the Oamock for this year.

The time of the couples has passed away, the dance is finished.

The dancers leave their separate way.

We return to...

the water for the year's most beautiful moons.

Three months of ocean, Three months of summer,

...of swimming and pleasure!

These last few days, we feel strange.

We don't even want to eat, maybe...

...we are becoming adults?

Time for us to answer the call.

Like our parents came from the sea,

...it's our turn to walk towards the ocean.

We leave the Oamock to join our people...

...in the gentle deep.

Little ice walkers, here comes the time...

...of metamorphosis, we became...

...children of the ocean, amongst children of the ocean.

One day, far away, this famous day of 1/3 of the year

...when the sun and the moon meet in the sky,

...we'll have to jump...

...out of the sea and become walkers again.

Faithfull to our forefathers' oath,

...we'll come back here to dance for life...

...during the biggest winter, and perpetuate...

...the march of the Emperor.