Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting;

The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star

Hath had elsewhere its setting,

And commeth from afar:

Not in entire forgetfulness

And not in utter nakedness

But trailing clouds of glory do we come

From God who is our home:

Heaven lies about us in our infancy.

(1804)

"Aguayo" by Maria Jose Gomez Ferreiro

It is true

I was created in you.

It is also true

That you were created for me.

I owned your voice

It was shaped and tuned to soothe me.

Your arms were molded

In a cradle to hold me, to rock me.

The scent of your body was the air

Perfumed for me to breathe.