Classic Poem

If a child was stillborn or what emerged was only a mass of flesh,
though they thought it not yet human my ancestors treated it as such
and as they should, they cut it with a sword! Has it come down
to their descendant sitting and suffering like a dog in chains, unable
to restrain himself, begging to be given a little water through the magnanimity
of people without generosity or to be granted
food that may calm the fire within his belly within this world?