Bring a candle of your making;
Light it and see it beaming
In a very dark and cold room;
Wait until the last bit of it:
Watch it standing in the gloom.
A candle after another,
Comes a hurricane and blows it out:
So weak, so helpless.
Carry your child wherever you go,
Nine months in the womb and
A lot more in life.
They bring happiness and joy;
They flare when all is dark.
Then long before the age of weakness
Comes an occupier and blows them out,
Chops them to pieces:
“Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.”