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Praise Childhood


When the child was a child,
walked with his arms dangling,
wanted the brook was a river, the river a torrent

and this pond to the sea.

When the child was a child,
did not know was a child, all he had to

soul and all souls were one.

When the child was a child did not
opinions about anything,
had no habits,
often sat cross-legged,
and suddenly began to run, had a whirlwind

in their hair and faces was not a photographer.

When the child was a child,
was the era of these questions:
because I am me, and why not you?
why I'm here, and why not there?
When did time begin and where does space end?
life under the sun is just a dream?
is not only the appearance of a world before the world
what I see, hear and smell?
's really evil and really evil people?
how can it be that I, I am, I was not there before becoming
,
and that, someday, I, who am I,
I will not be what they are?

When the child was a child,
It choked on spinach, peas, rice pudding,
and on steamed cauliflower,
and now eats it all, and not only out of necessity.

When the child was a child,
once awoke in a strange bed,
and now does so again and again.
Many people seemed beautiful,
and now does so only in rare cases of luck.

is clearly imagined Paradise,
and now can at most guess, could not
conceive of nothingness, and shudders today at the
idea.

When the child was a child,
played with enthusiasm,
and now everything is as much excitement as then,
but only when it is his job.

When the child was a child,
were enough for bread and apple,
and still do.

When the child was a child,
Berries filled its hand as only berries do, and it is still so
,
fresh walnuts made its tongue raw, and is still so
,
on every mountaintop, she felt
nostalgia for a higher mountain yet,
and in every city, longing
for an even greater city, and is still so
,
on top of a tree for cherries euphoric
it still has today,
a shyness in front of strangers,
and still have it, waiting for the first
Snow
And waits.

When the child was a child,
threw a stick against the tree like a spear,
that still continues to vibrate.

Peter Handke

photos A. Duhamel Iurilli