From the passions of human instincts
And the struggles of burning desires
Brings forth the inception of new Life
Bedecked in its natural Attire.
As the lips of the newborn
Cry aloud in its new Autumn
Loving caresses and touching Affection
Showers on without any Inhibition.
Little it knows the upcoming distress
As the years roll on its progress
the magic wand of immutable time
Touch one second to change the Rhyme.
Pleasure and Pain becomes the companion
Through thorny trails of countless eon
Father, Mother and Helping Friend
Mix become they in the Blend.
Trudging on its own and leading its life
Sometimes it thinks the reason of Gripe
Why it is born and Why should it suffer
In the Riddle of the Cunning Creator.