MOTHER How they play, Finding treasure in the sand. They're forever hand in hand, Our children.
TATEH How they laugh, She has never laughed like this.
MOTHER Every waking moment, bliss.
BOTH Our children.
TATEH See them running down the beach. Children run so fast...
MOTHER Toward the future...
TATEH From the past.
MOTHER How they dance, Unembarrassed and alone.
BOTH Hearing music of their own, Our children.
TATEH One so fair,
MOTHER And the other, lithe and dark.
BOTH Solemn joy and sudden spark, Our children. See them running down the beach. Children run so fast Toward the future From the past. There they stand, Making footprints in the sand, And forever, hand in hand, Our children. Two small lives, Silhouetted by the blue, One like me And one like you. Our children. Our children.
MOTHER Well.
TATEH You say that often. "Well".
MOTHER It's because I don't know what to say, Baron.
TATEH I'm not a Baron, of course. I'm a poor immigrant, a Jew, who points a camera so that his child can dress as beautifully as a princess. I want to drive from her memory every tenement stench and filthy immigrant street. I will buy her light and sun and clean wind of the ocean for the rest of her life. Now you know me. Now you understand. I am no Baron. I am Tateh.
MOTHER Now I know even less what to say.
TATEH Now it's my turn: Well.
MOTHER Thank you for your confidence. I shall keep it here.
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Copy to Clipboard: MOTHER How they play, Finding treasure in the sand. They're forever hand in hand, Our children.
TATEH How they laugh, She has never laughed like this.
MOTHER Every waking moment, bliss.
BOTH Our children.
TATEH See them running down the beach. Children run so fast...
MOTHER Toward the future...
TATEH From the past.
MOTHER How they dance, Unembarrassed and alone.
BOTH Hearing music of their own, Our children.
TATEH One so fair,
MOTHER And the other, lithe and dark.
BOTH Solemn joy and sudden spark, Our children. See them running down the beach. Children run so fast Toward the future From the past. There they stand, Making footprints in the sand, And forever, hand in hand, Our children. Two small lives, Silhouetted by the blue, One like me And one like you. Our children. Our children.
MOTHER Well.
TATEH You say that often. "Well".
MOTHER It's because I don't know what to say, Baron.
TATEH I'm not a Baron, of course. I'm a poor immigrant, a Jew, who points a camera so that his child can dress as beautifully as a princess. I want to drive from her memory every tenement stench and filthy immigrant street. I will buy her light and sun and clean wind of the ocean for the rest of her life. Now you know me. Now you understand. I am no Baron. I am Tateh.
MOTHER Now I know even less what to say.
TATEH Now it's my turn: Well.
MOTHER Thank you for your confidence. I shall keep it here.
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