Words by Peter Handke

When the child was a child

It walked with arms hanging

Wanted the stream to be a river and the river a torrent

And this puddle, the sea

When the child was a child, it didn't know

It was a child

Everything for it was filled with life and all life was one

Saw the horizon without trying to reach it

Couldn't rush itself And think on command

Was often terribly bored

And couldn't wait

Passed up greeting the moments

And prayed only with it's lips

When the child was a child

It didn't have an opinion about a thing

Had no habits

Often sat crossed-legged, took off running

Had a cow lick in it's hair

And didn't put on a face when photographed



When the child was a child

It was the time of the following questions

Why am I me and why not you

Why am I here and why not there

Why did time begin and where does space end

Isn't what I see and hear and smell

Just the appearance of the world in front of the world

Isn't life under the sun just a dream

Does evil actually exist in people

Who really are evil

Why can't it be that I who am

Wasn't before I was

And that sometime I, the I, I am

No longer will be the I, I am



When the child was a child

It gagged on spinach, on peas, on rice pudding

And on steamed cauliflower

And now eats all of it and not just because it has to

When the child was a child

It woke up once in a strange bed

And now time and time again

Many people seem beautiful to it

And now not so many and now only if it's lucky

It had a precise picture of paradise

And now can only vaguely conceive of it at best

It couldn't imagine nothingness

And today shudders in the face of it

Go for the ball

Which today rolls between it's legs

With it's I'm here it came

Into the house which now is empty



When the child was a child

It played with enthusiasm

And now only with such former concentration

Where it's work is concerned

When the game, task, activity, subject happens to be it's work



When the child was a child

It was enough to live on apples and bread. And it's still that way

When the child was a child berries fell

Only like berries into it's hand. And still do

The fresh walnuts made it's tongue raw. And still do

Atop each mountain it craved

Yet a higher mountain. And in each city it craved

Yet a bigger city. And still does

Reach for the cherries in the treetop

As elated as it still is today

Was shy in front of strangers. And still is

It waited for the first snow. And still waits that way

When the child was a child

It waited restlessly each day for the return of the loved one

And still waits that way

When the child was a child

It hurled a stick like a lance into a tree

And it's still quivering there today



The child, the child was a child

Was a child, was a child, was a child, was a child

Child, child, child

When the child, when the child, when the child

When the child, when the child

The child, child, child, child, child



(added words by Van Morrison)

And on and on and on and on, etc. And onward

With a sense of wonder

Upon the highest hill. Upon the highest hill

When the child was a child

Are you there

Shassas, shassas

Up on a highest hill

When the child was a child, was a child, was a child

Was a child, was a child, was a child, etc.



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