Why is a baby born with a cry?

He is safe in his crib, protected and loved.

He knows not of shadows that darken the light,

of the world , steady , stubborn, that marches to Night,

of the burden each man carries deep in his soul,

of the echoing cries that are trapped in their flight.

He is warm and asleep, and his sun is still high,

while the clouds, gray and silent, weep in my sky.

Lucky baby, you cry without knowing why,

while I , with my knowing, am still frozen-eyed.