Amazing how this tiny bundle of pink flesh and black hair can so powerfully brush everything else aside.
And at the count of ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes, new mummy is dazed with affection and overcome with pride.
Dispersed are her melancholic thoughts and secret longing for departed grandpa to be there.
Euphoria, primitive joy and the ultimate fulfillment of dreams of procreation are everywhere.
This miniature addition to our family looms larger than everyone else.
For he is after all a God sent gift, a representative of Life itself.
At the nursery he joins the pink and blue regiment that arrived earlier today.
And for their victory in life we, the witnesses of the miracle of birth, silently pray.
Collectively they challenge us, and questioningly defy:
'Then which of thy Lord's favours will ye deny? '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem