My mother groaned, my father wept,
Into the dangerous world I leapt;
Helpless, naked, piping loud,
Like a fiend hid in a cloud.
Struggling in my father's hands,
Striving against my swaddling bands,
Bound and weary, I thought best
To sulk upon my mother's breast.
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Comments2Such a poignant narration of the stark realities of infancy, isn't it? Is there a deeper metaphor here about the struggles of life right from birth?
Gosh, brings back childhood memories. Any symbolism involved?