CAGED
I HAVE a caged bird,
He beats the bars;
Wild and bright his eyes,
On his breast, scars.
An oriole whistles;
My bird has not a note,
Though I can see the song
Trembling in his throat.
Other birds fly south
To the green pampas floor,
But in the blue air
Mine spreads his wings no more.
I have a caged bird,
He neither flies nor sings,
But when the house is still
I hear the beat of wings.
Transcriber’s Notes:
Typographical errors have been silently corrected