Long after the death of Edgar Allan Poe (1849), this writer and poet still attracts. Many consider the work of Poe to be as powerful the day he wrote this. This is the poem Romance.
When reading this poem, one notices that the poet compares himself to a bird. It’s hard to determine exactly what type of bird, since the poet uses all sorts of terms that belong to different birds. The final part, where the poet has turned old, is most definitely about the condor. The poet compares himself to an old condor. But there is also a difference. The poet is also the condor and is followed by the condor. As if the poet steps away from himself. Maybe this is the moment, that the poet and condor see the ending is coming.
Don’t we all want to feel like a bird and especially the mighty condor, sometimes?
By Edgar Allan Poe
Romance, who loves to nod and sing
With drowsy head and folded wing
Among the green leaves as they shake
Far down within some shadowy lake,
To me a painted paroquet
Hath been—most familiar bird—
Taught me my alphabet to say,
To lisp my very earliest word
While in the wild wood I did lie,
A child—with a most knowing eye.
Of late, eternal condor years
So shake the very Heaven on high
With tumult as they thunder by,
I have no time for idle cares
Through gazing on the unquiet sky;
And when an hour with calmer wings
Its down upon my spirit flings,
That little time with lyre and rhyme
To while away—forbidden things—
My heart would feel to be a crime
Unless it trembled with the strings.