Lletres: Soundtrack Artists. Our Children.

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.

(MOTHER puts her hand to her heart.)

SHE goes. TATEH follows her with his eyes. He is smiling.

The music, lights and set segue to a street in Harlem, late at night.)