Why?
A child makes life worthwhile?
Every new nativity, new born comes with it hope?
A profound commemoration, silhouetted in a smile,
Generates the reverie whose calculated defeat we grieve?
Why do we believe that life that is to be
Has greater propensity for being additional,
As though we ascended not from identical sea
To collide in turn against the very same shore?

Why?
Do we enclose the unsurpassed of us in song,
The paradise that we abandon but never lost?
And try to pass that untainted personality down,
But not counting peril or considering the price?
I do not know what I don’t, But know that from the uterus
Has come a life whose life makes lives blossom.