Karen (Meryl Streep) reads an emotional poem at the funeral of Denys (Robert Redford) The most acclaimed motion picture of 1985 stars Robert Redford and Meryl Streep in one of the screen's great epic romances. Directed by Oscar winner Sydney Pollack, Out of Africa is the fascinating true story of Karen Blixen, a strong-willed woman who, with her philandering husband (Klaus Maria Brandauer), runs a coffee plantation in Kenya, circa 1914. To her astonishment, she soon discovers herself falling in love with the land, its people and a mysterious white hunter (Robert Redford). The masterfully crafted, breathtakingly produced story of love and loss earned Oscars for Best Picture, Director, Screenplay (based on material from another medium), Cinematography, Original Score, Art Direction (Set Decoration) and Sound.
Of thy going out and thy coming in, from this time forth and even forevermore.
The time you won your town the race.
We cheered you through the marketplace.
Man and boy stood cheering by as home we brought you.
Shoulder high.
Smart lad.
To slippy times away.
The fields red-glow in the night.
Early days the dawn broke.
A river, we let flow.
Now you will not swell the rout of lads that wore their honours out.
Runners whom renown outran.
And the name died.
For the land.
And round that early laurelled head.
We flocked to gaze as strangers did.
And find, unwithered on its curls.
A garland.
Briefer than a girl.
Now take back the soul of Dennis George Pinchaddle.
Whom you have shared with us.
He brought us joy.
And we loved him well.
He was not ours.
He was not mine.
I know a song of Africa.
of the giraffe, and the African new moon lying on her back, of the ploughs in the fields,
and the sweaty faces of the coffee pickers.
Does Africa know a song of me?
Will the air over the plain quiver with the colour that I am,
or will the children invent a game in which my name is?
Or the full moon throw a shadow over the gravel of the drive that was like me?
Or will the eagles of the Ngong Hills look out for me?
You cannot come where I am going.
There is no cooking where you are going.
But you would not like it there. You must trust me about this.
Letters you can send on to this address in Denmark.
When you sell the car, if you would send the cheque to Hunter and Company,
and anything else, you don't know what to do with it.
Yes, ma'am.
Baroness, I consent to ask if we may send you a drink.
Who is we?
Well, the members, actually.
What?
Whiskey, please.
Two whiskeys, please.
Baroness?
Rosely, ma'am.
That.
Yes, ma'am.
This is very dear to me.
It has helped me to find my way.
Thank you, sir.
I want to hear you say my name.
You are Karen.
Mail has come today, and a friend writes this to me.
The Maasai have reported to the District Commissioner at Ngong
that many times, at sunrise and sunset,
they have seen lions on Finch Hutton's grave.
A lion and a lioness have come there
and stood or laying on the grave for a long time.
After you went away,
the ground round the grave was levelled out into a sort of terrace.
I suppose that the level place makes a good site for the lions.
From there, they have a view over the plain
and the cattle and game on it.
Denis will like that.
I must remember to tell him.
