Birds

Shakespeare's Words On The Hunting, Eating, Caging of and Research on Animals

Folder: 
A Fellow Creature

 

The Animal Rights of William Shakespeare: A Fraction Of His Words on Universal Compassion

CALVES, DEER, BEARS, WILD PIGS, HORSES, RABBITS, WRENS, FISHES, BEETLES, FLIES, BEES

OF CALVES

William Shakespeare, Henry VI, Part Two, Act 3, Scene 1, Lines 202-220

Thou never didst them wrong, nor no man wrong;
And as the butcher takes away the calf,
And binds the wretch, and beats it when it strays,
Bearing it to the bloody slaughter-house,
Even so, remorseless, have they borne him hence;
And as the dam runs lowing up and down,
Looking the way her harmless young one went,
And can do nought but wail her darling’s loss.

ON DEER

As You Like It Act 2, Scene 1, Lines 24-71

Duke S. Come, shall we go and kill us venison?
And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools,
Being native burghers of this desert city,
Should in their own confines with forked heads
Have their round haunches gor'd.
First Lord. Indeed, my lord,
The melancholy Jaques grieves at that;
And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp
Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you.
To-day my Lord of Amiens and myself
Did steal behind him as he lay along
Under an oak whose antique root peeps out
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood;
To the which place a poor sequester'd stag,
That from the hunters' aim had ta'en a hurt,
Did come to languish; and, indeed, my lord,
The wretched animal heav'd forth such groans
That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat
Almost to bursting, and the big round tears
Cours'd one another down his innocent nose
In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool,
Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,
Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook,
Augmenting it with tears.
Duke S. But what said Jaques?
Did he not moralize this spectacle?
First Lord. O, yes, into a thousand similes.
First, for his weeping into the needless stream;
'Poor deer,' quoth he, 'thou mak'st a testament
As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more
To that which had too much: then, being there alone,
Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends;
'Tis right,' quoth he; 'thus misery doth part
The flux of company:' anon, a careless herd,
Full of the pasture, jumps along by him
And never stays to greet him; 'Ay,' quoth Jaques,
'Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens;
'Tis just the fashion; wherefore do you look
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?'
Thus most invectively he pierceth through
The body of the country, city, court, '
Yea, and of this our life; swearing that we
Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what’s worse,
To fright the animals and to kill them up
In their assign’d and native dwelling-place.
Duke S. And did you leave him in this contemplation?
Sec. Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and commenting
Upon the sobbing deer.

BEAR BAITING

(a cruel blood sport)  Bears were tied to stakes and dogs set loose to attack them)

Macbeth
‘They have tied me to the stake; I cannot fly/ But bear-like I must fight the course."

ON ANIMALS TURNED BY BUTCHERING INTO MEAT

Twelfth-Night; or, What You Will Act 1, Scene 3, Line 46
I am a great eater of beef, and I believe that does harm to my wit.

*

Troilus and Cressida:

"The plague of Greece upon thee, thou mongrel beef-witted lord."

*

Henry V Act 1 Scene 2
Our grave like Turkish meat shall have a tongueless mouth

*

Poem Venus And Adonis:

What is thy body but a swallowing grave

ON THE CAGING OF BIRDS

Romeo and Juliet Act 2 Scene 2

I would have thee gone:
And yet no further than a wanton's bird;
Who lets it hop a little from her hand,
Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
And with a silk thread plucks it back again,
So loving-jealous of his liberty.

ON WRENS

Macbeth Act 4 Scene 2

Lady MacBeth:
Even the fragile wren, the smallest of birds, will fight against the owl when it threatens her young .

ON VIVISECTION OR ANIMAL RESEARCH HARDENING THE HEART

Cymbeline Act 1, Scene 5, Lines 7-32

I will try the forces
Of these thy compounds on such creatures as
We count not worth the hanging,—but none human,—
To try the vigour of them and apply
Allayments to their act, and by them gather
Their several virtues and effects.
Cor. Your highness
Shall from this practice but make hard your heart;
Besides, the seeing these effects will be
Both noisome and infectious.

ON HUNTING

Venus And Adonis
Hunting he loved, but love he laughed to scorn

ON HORSE SLAVERY 

Venus and Adonis

How like a jade he stood, tied to the tree,
Servilely master'd with a leathern rein!

ON BOAR HUNTING 

Venus And Adonis

swine to gore,
Whose tushes (tusks) never sheathed he whetteth still,
Like to a mortal butcher bent to kill.
ON FISHES

In King Lear Act 1 Scene 4:

"I do profess to be no less than I seem, to serve him truly that will put me in trust, to love him that is honest, to converse with him that is wise and says little, to fear judgement, to fight when I cannot choose, and to eat no fish."

Twelfth Night

"A plague o' these pickle herring!"
ON HUNTED RABBITS

The Hunted Hare... from Venus and Adonis

And when thou hast on foot the purblind hare,
Mark the poor wretch, to overshoot his troubles
How he outruns the wind and with what care
He cranks and crosses with a thousand doubles:
The many musets through the which he goes
Are like a labyrinth to amaze his foes.

Sometime he runs among a flock of sheep,
To make the cunning hounds mistake their smell,
And sometime where earth-delving conies keep,
To stop the loud pursuers in their yell,
And sometime sorteth with a herd of deer:
Danger deviseth shifts; wit waits on fear:

For there his smell with others being mingled,
The hot scent-snuffing hounds are driven to doubt,
Ceasing their clamorous cry till they have singled
With much ado the cold fault cleanly out;
Then do they spend their mouths: Echo replies,
As if another chase were in the skies.

By this, poor Wat, far off upon a hill,
Stands on his hinder legs with listening ear,
To harken if his foes pursue him still:
Anon their loud alarums he doth hear;
And now his grief may be compared well
To one sore sick that hears the passing-bell.

Then shalt thou see the dew-bedabbled wretch
Turn, and return, indenting with the way;
Each envious brier his weary legs doth scratch,
Each shadow makes him stop, each murmur stay:
For misery is trodden on by many,
And being low never relieved by any.

Lie quietly, and hear a little more;
Nay, do not struggle, for thou shalt not rise:
To make thee hate the hunting of the boar,
Unlike myself thou hear'st me moralize,
Applying this to that, and so to so;
For love can comment upon every woe.

Puzzled wondering why
So many heads are hollow,
So many mean are walking beasts,
So much brutality blots the land,
Such epidemics of violence,
Such vertigos of sensuality
Inoculate and intoxicate the race.

ON BEETLES

Measure for Measure , Act 3, Scene 11, Lines 85-87 .

Isab.…And the poor beetle, that we tread upon,
In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great
As when a giant dies.

ON A FLY

Titus Andronicus Act 3, Scene 2, Lines 55-80

Mar. At that that I have kill'd, my lord; a fly.
Tit. Out on thee, murderer! thou kill'st my heart;
Mine eyes are cloy'd with view of tyranny:
A deed of death, done on the innocent,
Becomes not Titus' brother. Get thee gone;
I see, thou art not for my company.
Mar. Alas! my lord, I have but kill'd a fly.
Tit. But how if that fly had a father and a mother?
How would he hang his slender gilded wings
And buzz lamenting doings in the air!
Poor harmless fly,
That, with his pretty buzzing melody,

ON BEES

Henry V Act 1 Scene 2

Obedience: for so work the honey-bees, Creatures that by a rule in nature teach The act of order to a peopled kingdom. They have a king and officers of sorts; Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the tent-royal of their emperor; Who, busied in his majesty, surveys The singing masons building roofs of gold, The civil citizens kneading up the honey, The poor mechanic porters crowding in Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate, The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum, Delivering o'er to executors pale The lazy yawning drone

Author's Notes/Comments: 

http://elections.hslf.org/#  The Humane Soc of the US endorsements for 2020

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Draining A Swamp is An Act Of Violence

Folder: 
Mother Earth

*

It's violent to drain
a swamp.. killing many
beings and destroying the
habitat of birds,
frogs, fishes, and
other creatures.

Washington doesn't
need its swamp drained.
That was done 150 years
ago. It needs its
Augean stables at the
White House, Capitol Hill,
and the Supreme Court
cleansed, as well as at
every federal gency.

Pruitt's EPA and Zinke's
DOI have drained the swamp
.. destroying the marshlands
which are the cooling pools of
water of Mother
Earth,
They have filled in the swamps
with filthy oil.

 

saiom shriver

 

Footnote: Ireland is the first nation to

remove all investments in fossil fuels

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Sing Sing

Folder: 
Positive Thought

*

On a branch

outside Sing Sing

trying to cheer her

favorite prisoner

a bird sings

 

saiom shriver

 

Footnote: Sing Sing is a NY State prison, located in Ossining New York

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Oxymoron: Controlled Burns

Folder: 
Mother Earth

*

The wind changes and

'controlled burns'

become fires of

deforestation,

burning many 

animals and baby birds

alive,

causing others

defenestration.

 

saiom shriver

This caged bird don’t sing By jfarrell

This caged bird don’t sing

By jfarrell

 

Yes, I want to be free

Free to live, laugh and love

Free to enjoy, to be happy

To be normal.

 

To spread my wings and fly.

But

It’s safe here in my cage

No risk of getting hurt.

 

By something new,

By someone new.

No risk of a new cage,

“better the devil you know…”

 

This bird doesn’t sing;

This bird does dance;

This bird sits sulkily silent in his cage.

Already dead?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

response to a poem i read earlier

Greener Pastures

Folder: 
Favorites

 

We look out into the distance and see,

 

Flying down is a beautiful bird,

 

I am unsure of its species and appearance,

 

However, as we sit and admire I doubt I have ever seen anything so beautiful,

 

As the majesty swoops down near the green grass,

 

Than ascends towards her blue sky.

 

 

 

Some time passes and our bird friend appears to have abandoned us,

 

He has fled perhaps somewhere sunnier as the black clouds begin to close in,

 

Out of the corner a new bird appears,

 

A black silhouette, an ominous shadow,

 

He too, swoops down near the green grass,

 

Than ascends towards his dark sky.

 

 

 

Again a period of time passes and another bird chooses to leave us behind,

 

But yet again another appears and the storm comes to a close,

 

With this one the sky has balanced, and the full beauty of the world can be seen,

 

It flies in and out of the green grass, tiptoeing its way through the field,

 

It is perfect, the perfect bird and the perfect bird,

 

It too ascends towards the sky and leaves us behind however.

 

 

 

Perhaps the right bird is none at all, for they will always find a greener pasture.

 

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The Jealous Mockingbird

The Jealous Mockingbird

 

Once there was a mockingbird, whose name was Mike, sitting on the branch of a big three. He had not only shiny feathers but a mighty voice all his friends admired. He was singing his graceful song and dancing to it when another mockingbird sat next to him, one he had never seen before. “A new friend” he thought to himself, and decided to keep quiet in order to listen to him sing. This new mockingbird sang and his song was beautiful, but Mike was neither impressed nor delighted by his new friend’s talent, instead he felt jealousy, fearing that the song of his enemy was better than his. “This can’t be, my song is the best one there is. But just in case...” and the mockingbird decided to steal this song. And he practiced and practiced until he had master this new song, and now he could sing not only just his original song but this new one too. “This is proof that I am the best” he thought “if I can sing his song it means I am more talented than him”, and he went back to his nest to call it a day.

 

Next morning he woke up ready to show everyone his new talent and headed to the top branch of the highest tree, cleared his throat and sang his song full-throated, making sure that all his fellow mockingbirds could hear. As he always did, he catched the attention of all the other birds who kept quiet to listen to him and when they were all looking and him, he stopped for a second and began to sing his newly learned song. All the other birds froze, but not because they had liked this new song, but because they were shocked that Mike had sang a different song than his.

“This is outrageous” mockingbird Alexis, one of the elders, said “a mockingbird is born with a song of its own and that song is beautiful and original and special because it was composed specially for him” and he flew away offended at what he had just witnessed.

But not all of the mockingbirds thought like elder Alexis, and applauded Mike’s mastery on song-shifting. “If he can do it I can do it too” one of them said, “I bet we all can” the other one replied. And so it began that all the mockingbirds began to steal each other’s songs, changing from one to another and even forgetting their own. And newborn mockingbirds were no longer encouraged to find their true voice but to choose whose song to steal. And ever since Mike decided to still a song, no new songs had been heard and jealousy and mistrust spread, mockingbirds feared that they would be copied and always looked forward to coping others, and the old days when they all danced to their songs and shared them and admired the diversity were long gone. And it all began to decay until one day it was all over.

 

And this is the story of how the world ended. You may wonder why there were no explosions or chaos but you know what they say: “This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper” (T. S. Eliot)

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PIGEONS IN THE SKY

On a morning walk I chanced to see
That is both Deborah and I,
From a pier that juts into the sea...
Pigeons in the sky.

We see many birds as we meander
So one may wonder...why
With pelicans and herons, who seem grander
Did we notice pigeons in the sky?

The pigeons were flying, to our elation
Silently, wings spread
In one harmonious formation
Just above our heads.

Left and right, up and down, they flew
In a wonderful display
And we were there to witness anew
Their beautiful ballet.

How do they do it? fly as one
Perhaps we’ll never know why
As they dance in the shadow of the sun
And waltz across the sky.

Then again, we don’t have to know
For our life to be enhanced
The beauty is not in knowing
The beauty is in the dance.

And life needs more grace and symmetry
More moments that beautify
More moments of surprise and mystery
Like pigeons in the sky.

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The Raven and the Blue Jay

There once was a time, not so long ago, in Central Park New York City, a Raven and a Blue Jay (better known as “Jay”), who were the best of friends. These two were friends ever since they could remember; nest friends as papa bird calls them. While Raven had this combustion of impulsive energy in him, this need to always outsmart and stand out from the crowd. Little intelligent Blue Jay stayed by his side, and always supported him from the shadows.

 

Raven would always brag about being the fastest flyer in the city. He was recognized as “rapid raven” in Owl High since he was known for his capacity to do every thing faster than anyone else. Jay on the other hand, wasn’t known at all. Since he didn’t prove he was outstanding like Raven so he was practically invisible. Actually, he was outstanding in his own way but nobody noticed. He had the perfect grades and was a great singer. He actually preferred it this way though, his situation caused him no trouble. The mere thought of how fame just alters your ego and morphs you into someone you’re not, gave him the shivers down to his bird bones. He certainly did not want to be like that, however Raven was transforming little by little.

 

These two were a great pair. They’d do everything together. They would fly to school in the mornings and fly back home in the evenings, sometimes they would even wake up at dawn and go hunting. Even though they had their differences they needed each other, they counted on one another.

 

One day at school they were asked to do a project, they needed to collect branches and make a nest out of them. Once the head Owl was done explaining the instructions for the project, Raven had already begun the daunting task ahead. He soared through the whole park in a short matter of time, collecting the most branches he could find, of course faster than Jay.

 

Even if his friend seemed to be way ahead of him, Jay did not panic, and thought the project in a wise and composed manner. Brainstorming first about how he wanted to build his nest and making the physic and mathematical calculations on how much weight he wanted the nest to hold. After his calculations he slowly searched for the specific type of branches he had in mind; small but sturdy.

 

Raven, like always apparently “beat” Jay and brought in one hundred little tiny branches to their workshop in less than an hour. He started to work on his nest and was already halfway done by the time Jay arrived. Jay on the other hand, only brought fifty branches and started to build his nest patiently.

 

At the end of the class, the head Owl came to try out their nests. Raven bragged about how fast he had made his nest while Jay just stayed quiet. As the head Owl tried out Jay’s nest, every thing was amazing, he jumped, danced and it was hard as a rock. Once the head Owl stood on Raven’s nest it looked fine, but just as he jumped, the nest crumpled and came down in a rush. Raven stood there quiet and for the first time; and congratulated his best friend.

 

The moral of the story is this: Real achievement isn’t about who makes it faster, it’s about the final product.

 

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