Two Poems: One Inspired by the Other

[muccamukk]

Sympathy

    I know what the caged bird feels, alas!
        When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;
    When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,
    And the river flows like a stream of glass;
        When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,
    And the faint perfume from its chalice steals —
    I know what the caged bird feels!

    I know why the caged bird beats his wing
        Till its blood is red on the cruel bars;
    For he must fly back to his perch and cling
    When he fain would be on the bough a-swing;
        And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars
    And they pulse again with a keener sting —
    I know why he beats his wing!

    I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
        When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,—
    When he beats his bars and he would be free;
    It is not a carol of joy or glee,
        But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core,
    But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings —
    I know why the caged bird sings!

-- Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872-1906)


I know why the caged bird sings

A free bird leaps on the back of the wind
and floats downstream till the current ends
and dips his wing in the orange suns rays and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage
can seldom see through his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.

-- Maya Angelou (1928-)

Comments

I prefer the first poem, always did

[jazzypom]

Dumbar's voice is a bit fresher, a bit freer. Whereas Maya Angelou has always come off as a lot more controlled and distant. But to be fair, whilst Dumbar hints at why he knows But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core/ But a plea/ that upward to Heaven he flings — at least Angelou spells it out for us:

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.

This stanza moves it from the unknown, where the reader is free to imprint his nameless desires on the bird in Dunbar's poetry to what Maya spells out so freely, about three generations later, when the AA's lot is not much changed but wanting better sings of freedom.

Well done for digging up these two poems.

I think I do too

[muccamukk]

The first feels more lyical, or poetic, maybe. The second is so direct that it loses some of its passion. I do like them both though.