In Hungarian

As tho' to breathe were life! Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.
(Ulysses, by  Lord Alfred Tennyson)
 
Four young actors, four old puppets, a dog, a dead person, and a mission. A long journey from Budapest to Venice, from the future to the past, from the past to the future.
The combination of four young actors and four old puppets brings the paradox between youth and old age into focus: the soul still flies, the brain still works as it used to, the creative senses are still alert, and passion still drives the person, but the aging body constantly reminds and warns us of the inevitable end of our existence.
The bond between the old puppets – severely limited in their movements – and the young puppeteers creates a unique theatrical form, portraying both the grief connected with passing away, and the grotesque humour evident in the struggle to survive.