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We Were Children
My darling, we were children,
two happy little kids. We snuck into the henhouse and crawled in the straw and hid. We imitated roosters, and if anyone came through— “Cock-a-doodle-doo!” They thought that they’d heard a rooster crow. We took some farmyard boxes and wallpapered them inside and lived as a happy couple in our elegant abode. The old cat from the neighbors’ would often come for tea. We gave her bows and curtseys and a compliment or three. We inquired how she was doing with sympathy and tact, and since then we’ve said the same to many another old cat. Often we sat and talked as if we were wise with age and complained that it all was better back in the good old days, That love and trust and faith had vanished everywhere, and coffee was so expensive, and money oh so rare! The children’s games are over, and everything comes to dust, money, the days, the planet, and faith and love and trust. 25 July 2010
Heine satirically constrasts the perceptions of children and adults. I believe he was writing to his sister, but I prefer to think of the poem as depicting two childhood friends who later marry. I must have watched too much anime.
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