if she could run away
if she could find a corner
on the ground
yes
a corner layed with hay
would be a thousand times better
than this
aseptic bed
where perched on high
she is giving birth
for the first time.

It isn' the shame
for the unnatural pose
in front of stangers,
that faded away
with the first pains,
and that attavistic
fear of death
that raises its head
despite all knowledge
also retreats
at the merciless hammering
of the new life.

Just,
perched on high
she is afraid
that the child will drop
if nobody catches it,
and she , helpless
tied up
can only push
push with the wave
until she passes out.

Where is the mother
the sister
the chorus of black dressed
relative females,
the good wife
who will catch the child?
She should have been
much closer to the ground.

In this harshly lit
innimical space
the Fates,
ancient underworld godesses
would disappear like shadows
were they to come.
She should have been much closer
to the earth.

With a last push
breathless until she is freed
drunk from the effort
she hears
the baby's cry
and sees it hung by the feet
in the hands of a shape
dressed in white.

It seems made of marble
this being
which she separated
from her body
with much greater effort
than the amoeba.
Marble with blue lines.

And when later
they bring it to her
washed from the fat
pink
and a little roughed,
rested
she watches it
for a long time
in the white cradle
next to her bed,
in the brightly lit and happy
aseptic room

Let it create its own fate.
In any case
if any of the Moerae had dared appear
she would have only welcomed
Clotho.
 

********************

This was written long ago, in greek, when I was much closer to the birthing process :)
I thought it might be of interest as content . There is a rhythm in greek I could nor recreate well here.