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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Yes I agree it is a beautiful portrait of a birth of a child. Incredable, really.
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it sounds as if the mother is giving birth to a child. this is a very interesting poem.
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