When the child was a child,
..it walked with its arms swinging.

It wanted the stream to be a river,
..the river a torrent,
..and this puddle to be a sea.

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

Everything was full of life,
..and all life was one.

When the child was a child,
..it had no opinions about anything.
It had no habits.
It sat cross-legged,
..took off running,
..had a cowlick in its hair,
..and didn't make a face when photographed.

from The Song of Childhood by Peter Handke writer of the excellent film Wings of Desire.