My child, we were just children, <br />Two happy kids, that’s all: <br />We crept into the henhouse, <br />And hid there in the straw. <br />We crowed like the cockerel, <br />And all the passers-by – <br />Thought our: ‘Cock-a-doodle-doo!’ <br />Was the real cockerel’s cry. <br />We papered over the boxes <br />We found around the yard, <br />And we lived there together <br />In our elegant house of card. <br />The neighbour’s cat, the old one, <br />She often came for tea: <br />We paid her our respects, then, <br />I bowed and you curtseyed. <br />We asked how she was feeling, <br />Politely and with care: <br />Since then we’ve said the same <br />To many an ancient fur. <br />We often sat there chatting, <br />Sensibly, as folks do, <br />Complaining how much better <br />It was in our day too: <br />How love and faith and loyalty <br />Have vanished from the earth, <br />How dear the coffee is now, <br />How hard to garner wealth!…. <br />They’re gone our games as children, <br />Everything goes, we see – <br />Wealth and Earth and ages, <br />Faith, love and loyalty.<br /><br />Heinrich Heine<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mein-kind-wir-waren-kinder/
