The earth and sky were unknown worlds to me
Only the expanse of
mother‘s bosom was a world to me
Every movement was a symbol of life‘s pleasure to me
My own speech was like a meaningless word to me
During infancy‘s pain if somebody made me cry
The noise of the door chain would comfort me
Oh! How I stared at the moon for long hours
Staring at its silent journey among broken clouds
I would ask repeatedly about its mountains and plains
And how surprised would I be at that prudent lie
My eye was devoted to seeing; my lip was prone to speak
My heart was no less than inquisitiveness personified.