terça-feira, novembro 30, 2004

"Als das Kind Kind war..."


When the child was a child

there was the time for questions like-

Why am I me

and why not you?

Why am I here

and why not there?

When did time begin

and when did space end?

Isn't life under the sun just a dream?

Isn't what I see, hear and smell

just a vision of a world before the world?

Does evil really exist?

Are there people who are really evil?

How can it be that I who is me wasn't there

before I was

and that one day I who is me

shall no longer be what I am now?

When the child was a child

he choked on spinach, rice pudding,

peas and boiled cauliflower,

and now he eats it all

and not just because he must.


When the child was a child

he once woke up in a strange bed;

now this happens again and again.

Many people seemed beautiful then,

now very few do at all.

He had a precise picture of paradise

and now he can only make a guess.

He couldn't imagine nothingness;

today he trembles at the idea.

When the child was a child

he lived on apples and bread,

it was enough then and still is.


When the child was a child

berries fell into his hands and they still do.

He felt shy in front of strangers

and still feels the same.

He waits for the first snow

and is still waiting.


When the child was a child

he threw himself with spirit into his games,

and now he masters such involvement only

where work is concerned