Saturday, November 5, 2011

"The Tame Bird was in a Cage" by Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941)


          
"The Tame Bird was in a Cage"
                                  by Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941)


The tame bird was in a cage, the free bird was in the forest.
They met when the time came, it was a decree of fate.
The free bird cries, “O my love, let us fly to the wood”.
The cage bird whispers, “Come hither, let us both live in the cage”.
Says the free bird, “Among bars, where is there room to spread one's wings?”
"Alas," cries the caged bird, “I should not know where to sit perched in the sky”.
 
The free bird cries, “My darling, sing the songs of the woodlands”.
The cage bird sings, “Sit by my side, I'll teach you the speech of the learned”.
The forest bird cries, “No, ah no! songs can never be taught”.
The cage bird says, “Alas for me, I know not the songs of the woodlands”.
 
There love is intense with longing, but they never can fly wing to wing.
Through the bars of the cage they look, and vain is their wish to know each other.
They flutter their wings in yearning, and sing, “Come closer, my love!”
The free bird cries, “It cannot be, I fear the closed doors of the cage”.
The cage bird whispers, “Alas, my wings are powerless and dead”. 

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

The Wolf on the Run











The Wolf on the Run

            My territory, I mark! Head high, lead I!
            I look behind to see...
                        alpha female and a group do follow.
            Bison and bulls are afraid of my looks!
            Lions and tigers respect my pack!
            My powerful paws’ pug marks
have become the signature on the territory.
            I can smell any smell far or near
and my smell becomes the scent of the soil.

            I count the stars and the sun as mine!
            Rivers and trees are my fellows.
            Summer or winter, autumn or spring
                        ....all spring for me.
            Thunder storm or winter storm, dust or ice storm
                        ...all are one and one to me.
            Any terrain is my terrain.
            Any land ...hard or soft, hot or cold,
                        ....my big paws can handle them.

            But where is the land ...liveable land?
            All are taken over by voracious humans.
They have wolves in their bellies,
They eat and wolf the lands, not their own.
Where is the space to live or walk?
The hungry humans finally want to pollute
even the outer space with their race.  
           
            The humans have thrown me to the wolves.
My pitiable plight should bring to light
            the condition of every coinhabitant.
The Zoo’s caging iron bars cannot cage me,
            The Circus’s searing iron chains chain me neither.
            Insensitive seclusion cannot intimidate,
Inept servitude is to my nature, alien.

            No one can make me bark!
Cross breeds and, thereby, animals bred,
                        by humans are less persecuted.
Who has benefited from domestication?
My dog cousins live only to prove
their lingering love.
See the shedding of sweat and blood
for self-centred humans.
The humans know reproduction,
do they know reciprocation?
The dog is human’s best friend.
Whose friends are the humans?

The Biblical sheep were sent among wolves!
These days, we wolves are the sacrificial sheep.
“What cannot be cured should be endured”
the shrewd humans say!
What cannot be cured should be cured
                        or else the cancerous cells will destroy all.
            The big game has shot a hole in the brain of the biosphere.
            My grey colour needs no change,
but the greying grey earth does.
Will my wolfish howl be the last howl?
Or could be the earth bowl’s last howl?

All territory marked! In sighs, bleed I!
            I look behind to see...
                        alpha female and a group, as memory, do follow.
            Bison and bulls are in vibrant pictures.
Lions and tigers adorn poachers’ villas.
This is no cry wolf, but the cry of the wolf.
Tripping tears do blur my vision.
But no one can extinguish the fire in my eyes.
This fine fire has to blaze and cleanse.
In the dark, I see some sparkling eyes of whelps!
Let the sparks spark a new awakening for the earth!

Dr. Suresh Frederick
Associate Professor & UG Head
Department of English
Bishop Heber College
Tiruchirappalli - 620 017