Caged birds don’t warble
They sing a song of sorrow
Waiting for freedom
And a beautiful tomorrow
Yet all birds start their day with a song
And then all day, they warble along
Though the past had been bleak
They are hopeful and still sing
And one day, who knows
Their hopes may still take wing..
......
But, lo! from forth a copse that neighbours by,
A breeding jennet, lusty, young, and proud,
Adonis' trampling courser doth espy,
And forth she rushes, snorts and neighs aloud;
The strong-neck'd steed, being tied unto a tree,
Breaketh his rein, and to her straight goes he.
Imperiously he leaps, he neighs, he bounds,
And now his woven girths he breaks asunder;
The bearing earth with his hard hoof he wounds,
......
Still was the night, Serene & Bright,
when all Men sleeping lay;
Calm was the season, & carnal reason
thought so 'twould last for ay.
Soul, take thine ease, let sorrow cease,
much good thou hast in store:
This was their Song, their Cups among,
the Evening before.
Wallowing in all kind of sin,
......
From his shoulder Hiawatha
Took the camera of rosewood,
Made of sliding, folding rosewood;
Neatly put it all together.
In its case it lay compactly,
Folded into nearly nothing;
But he opened out the hinges,
Pushed and pulled the joints and hinges,
Till it looked all squares and oblongs,
......
In spite of war, in spite of death,
In spite of all man's sufferings,
Something within me laughs and sings
And I must praise with all my breath.
In spite of war, in spite of hate
Lilacs are blooming at my gate,
Tulips are tripping down the path
In spite of war, in spite of wrath.
"Courage!" the morning-glory saith;
"Rejoice!" the daisy murmureth,
......
I see, I feel, I hear, but can't speak,
I shiver, I breathe, unsteady and strained,
A fear of unknown that reeks,
Masked under the colorful rain.
I smile, I act,
I quiver, I hide
Malicious I am, they say as fact
"Cowards!", my lord would snide.
......
We have come a long way —
you and I —
sauntering along paths of tales,
narrow, slippery, serpentine, endless.
We crouch at spider-ways,
through the fustiness of late-rising dawn,
feeling the rapid beats of a stolen heart and the
entanglement by an unending network of
webs and encroaching thorns.
Cockroach feelers we rely on to guide us
......
Let me state here, in this wintry oubliette,
with its chains, gyves and manacles,
and with its parlous existence of
strain, stress and red agony,
that I shall make no attempt to escape,
but shall go only when I am released.
The moonlight streaming in through the window pane
Was Witness to my steaming tears of pain
Her response was calm and logical too
Look at me, she said, and take a cue
There’s no need to mope and to cry
And in knots your tensions tie :
Taking pity on my plight
She soothed me with her peaceful light
She helped me, my fears, face
With her usual calm and grace
......
Caged birds don’t warble
They sing a song of sorrow
Waiting for freedom
And a beautiful tomorrow
Yet all birds start their day with a song
And then all day, they warble along
Though the past had been bleak
They are hopeful and still sing
And one day, who knows
Their hopes may still take wing..
......