1I know what the caged bird feels, alas!
2When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;
3When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,
4And the river flows like a stream of glass;
5When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,
6And the faint perfume from its chalice steals—
7I know what the caged bird feels!
8I know why the caged bird beats his wing
9Till its blood is red on the cruel bars;
10For he must fly back to his perch and cling
11When he fain would be on the bough a-swing;
12And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars
13And they pulse again with a keener sting—
14I know why he beats his wing!
15I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
16When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,—
17When he beats his bars and he would be free;
18It is not a carol of joy or glee,
19But a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core,
20But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings—
21I know why the caged bird sings!
1I know what the caged bird feels, alas!
2When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;
3When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,
4And the river flows like a stream of glass;
5When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,
6And the faint perfume from its chalice steals—
7I know what the caged bird feels!
8I know why the caged bird beats his wing
9Till its blood is red on the cruel bars;
10For he must fly back to his perch and cling
11When he fain would be on the bough a-swing;
12And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars
13And they pulse again with a keener sting—
14I know why he beats his wing!
15I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
16When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,—
17When he beats his bars and he would be free;
18It is not a carol of joy or glee,
19But a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core,
20But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings—
21I know why the caged bird sings!
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!
Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.
The Poem Out Loud — Listen to influential poet Maya Angelou reciting the poem that gave her autobiography its title.
Dunbar's Life and Legacy — Learn more about Paul Laurence Dunbar's life and work via the Poetry Foundation.
More Poems by Dunbar — Dive into more of the poet's work, including the collection in which this poem was published.
A Dunbar Podcast — Listen to a Princeton Ideas Podcast episode on the life and work of the poet.