Cuckoo
Abandoned unborn by my begetters
I was still dead a few spring days ago:
no beat in the breast, no breath in me.
A kinswoman covered me in the clothes she wore,
no kind but kind indeed. I was coddled & swaddled
as close as I had been a baby of her own,
until, as had been shaped, so shielded, though no kin,
the unguessed guest grew great with life.
She fended for me, fostered me, she fed me up,
till I was of a size to set my bounds
further afield. She had fewer dear
sons and daughters because she did so.
Old English - 10th century - translated by Michael Alexander