This is not a poem as much as a statement upon the art of Maya Angelou. Her art touched the reader so.She wrote from her heart. Poems in tribute to her will never be as wonderful as her own prose and poetry. She was beauty, song, intellect and light. She knew purpose, joy, sorrow and history through words. She was a teacher of poetry to the masses simply by being a practicing poet. Read her books. Cherish them. Books and poems are the explaination of their living a poet leaves upon their dying. The caged bird gathered voice and it sang, sang triumphant.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem