Thanks to Blog Marco learn that for several years in France is organized "Le printemps des Poètes " this event is linked to 21 March, World Poetry Day established by UNESCO.
It 's a very good initiative, I like to share and participate, as far as I can. So I offer this poem by Peter Handke "In Praise of childhood."
It 's a very good initiative, I like to share and participate, as far as I can. So I offer this poem by Peter Handke "In Praise of childhood."
The first time I heard it, it felt not read it, was in the movie "Wings of Desire." This is the initial video of the beautiful film of Wim Wenders:
The following is the full text of the poem:
"When the child was a child, he went to
arms hanging.
He wanted the brook was a river, the river
a stream, and this pool
the sea.
When the child was a child,
did not know of a child.
For him everything had a soul,
and all souls were one.
When the child was a child,
had an opinion on anything.
He had no habits.
often sat cross-legged,
and suddenly slipped away.
had a whirlwind in her hair, and made no faces
photographer.
When the child was a child,
was the era of these questions:
Why am I me, and why not you?
Why am I here and why not there?
When did time begin, and where does space end?
Life under the sun, it is not just a dream?
's not just the appearance of a world in front of a world
what I see, hear and smell?
There really evil?
And people are really evil?
How can it be that I, who am I,
was not there before becoming?
And that someday I, who am I,
no longer be who I am?
When the child was a child, she could not swallow
spinach, peas, rice pudding, steamed cauliflower
,
and now eats everything, not just by necessity.
When the child was a child,
woke up once in a strange bed, and now
's always the case, the
look good many men, and now
only in rare cases, it featured vividly
a paradise,
and now I can at best guess,
could not imagine anything
and now shudders at the thought.
When the child was a child
played with enthusiasm and is now so taken by what
as then only if this thing is his work.
When the child was a child,
were enough for bread and apple,
and still do.
When the child was a child,
berries fell into its hands,
as only berries do. And
remain so.
Fresh walnuts made its tongue raw,
and still do.
For every mountain and had a longing for a higher mountain yet,
and in every city had a longing for an even greater city.
And this is still true.
on top of a tree, for cherries
elation
it still has today.
was afraid before strangers, and continues to have
.
awaited the first snow,
And waits.
When the child was a child,
threw a stick against the tree, like a spear. And she still continues
to vibrate. "
arms hanging.
He wanted the brook was a river, the river
a stream, and this pool
the sea.
When the child was a child,
did not know of a child.
For him everything had a soul,
and all souls were one.
When the child was a child,
had an opinion on anything.
He had no habits.
often sat cross-legged,
and suddenly slipped away.
had a whirlwind in her hair, and made no faces
photographer.
When the child was a child,
was the era of these questions:
Why am I me, and why not you?
Why am I here and why not there?
When did time begin, and where does space end?
Life under the sun, it is not just a dream?
's not just the appearance of a world in front of a world
what I see, hear and smell?
There really evil?
And people are really evil?
How can it be that I, who am I,
was not there before becoming?
And that someday I, who am I,
no longer be who I am?
When the child was a child, she could not swallow
spinach, peas, rice pudding, steamed cauliflower
,
and now eats everything, not just by necessity.
When the child was a child,
woke up once in a strange bed, and now
's always the case, the
look good many men, and now
only in rare cases, it featured vividly
a paradise,
and now I can at best guess,
could not imagine anything
and now shudders at the thought.
When the child was a child
played with enthusiasm and is now so taken by what
as then only if this thing is his work.
When the child was a child,
were enough for bread and apple,
and still do.
When the child was a child,
berries fell into its hands,
as only berries do. And
remain so.
Fresh walnuts made its tongue raw,
and still do.
For every mountain and had a longing for a higher mountain yet,
and in every city had a longing for an even greater city.
And this is still true.
on top of a tree, for cherries
elation
it still has today.
was afraid before strangers, and continues to have
.
awaited the first snow,
And waits.
When the child was a child,
threw a stick against the tree, like a spear. And she still continues
to vibrate. "
(P. Handke, Lied Vom Kindsein)
