Prayer before Birth
I am not
yet born; O hear me.
Let not
the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the
club-footed ghoul come near me.
I am not
yet born, console me.
I fear
that the human race may with tall walls wall me,
with strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me,
on black racks rack me, in blood-baths roll me.
I am not yet born; provide me
With water
to dandle me, grass to grow for me, trees to talk
to me, sky to sing to me, birds and a white light
in the back of my mind to guide me.
I am not
yet born; forgive me
For the
sins that in me the world shall commit, my words
when they speak me, my thoughts when they think me,
my treason
engendered by traitors beyond me,
my life when they murder by means of my
hands, my death when they live me.
I am not
yet born; rehearse me
In the parts I must play and the cues
I must take when
old men lecture me, bureaucrats hector me, mountains
frown at me, lovers laugh at me, the white
waves call me to folly and the desert calls
me to doom and the beggar refuses
my gift and my children curse me.
I am not
yet born; O hear me,
Let not the
man who is beast or who thinks he is God
come near me.
I am not
yet born; O fill me
With
strength against those who would freeze my
humanity, would dragoon me into a lethal automaton,
would make me a cog in a machine, a thing with
one face, a thing, and against all those
who would dissipate my entirety, would
blow
me like thistledown hither and
thither or hither and thither
like water held in the
hands would spill me.
Let them not make me a
stone and let them not spill me.
Otherwise
kill me.
Louis
MacNeice