He is born exhausted and tired,
He wishes to go back, to retire.
He is born with a shadow of vague sadness.
And appears a space – empty and helpless…
Don’t be lazy about breathing, my child…
Just a while and you’ll discern the world.
If your mother regrets, if your father quips,
You just listen to the bird, – the bird chirps…
Look at the butterfly, – it flutters…
The brook helps the flower to bloom,
When the bee amuses it with his sting,
The tiny bird sings to the moon…
If the heart throbs and snow melts away,
You feel that Life is your fate,
And, having left the womb of your parent,
You adorn Darkness with your lament.
Janri Gogeshvili
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/don-t-be-lazy-about-living-my-child/
