Father
Cry my son, my son cry. Your voice a sound of life, cry. Let your tears run down your face and cry, let your smooth brand new skin get a wash from nature and birth, just cry. I’ll hear you and hold you, just cry my little man, your fears are true but I’ll hold you and you will get through, just cry.
Mother
Cry, my little young soldier just cry, let me hear your wisdom and cry. I’ll hold you and feed your cry. When you get older like daddy just cry, when there’s no one around you and life begins to pound you, just cry, until one day your face will beard and you’ve conquered all that you feared, just cry.
Uncles
Cry, young baby your life is a big maybe so cry. When it hurts, we’ll sooth you, when you’re cold we’ll clothe you, just cry. Through pain, in joy, you cry. We’ll guide you and hide you but never forsake you, just cry. When truth becomes mystery and love brings misery, just cry.
Mother
Cry, my baby – my hero just cry. There’s no need to run when you cry. One day you’ll be like daddy, going out to find something for our dinner table, so cry. When I’m here until I’m gone just cry. Your breathe brings me victory and pride, so cry, when the weight of kings weighs heavy on your shoulder just cry.
Mother and Father
Cry… our baby, our joy, just cry we’re always besides you so cry. Until your tears run dry, and you know that it didn’t hurt to try – cry. And when it works out, we’ll cry, for soon the sound of your voice in our home will run dry. And we will cry, knowing that soon will be your turn to learn the joys of a baby’s cry.
Author’s note
I was listening to an Italian Opera and I am in no way familiar with Italian, but this little story is what I heard the Primo Uomo (Father), and the Prima Donna (Mother) singing. The Coro was the uncles. I loved it.
The picture is from Love Incarnate(Instagram), taken after a fire left many without homes in a South African informal settlement. I think those kids deserve a little cry.
Fate Makers: in person. 