If I were only a little puppy, not your baby, mother dear,
would you say “No” to me if I tried to eat from your dish?
Would you drive me off, saying to me,
“Go away, you naughty little puppy”?
Then go, mother, go! I will never come to you when you call me,
and l will never let you feed me any more.
If I were only a little green parrot, and not your baby,
mother dear, would you keep me chained lest I should fly away?
Would you shake your finger at me and say,
“What an ungrateful wretch of a bird!
It is gnawing at its chain day and night”?
Then go, mother, go! I will run away into the woods;
I will never let you take me in your arms again.
(This poem is from ‘The Crescent Moon’ by Tagore)
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