"The Thorn" and "Brenda's Got A Baby" by 2Pac
(Preferring Gossip over helping a woman)
"The Thorn"
I “There is a Thorn—it looks so old, In truth, you’d find it hard to say How it could ever have been young, It looks so old and grey. Not higher than a two years' child It stands erect, this aged Thorn; No leaves it has, no prickly points; It is a mass of knotted joints, A wretched thing forlorn. It stands erect, and like a stone With lichens is it overgrown. II “Like rock or stone, it is o’ergrown, With lichens to the very top, And hung with heavy tufts of moss, A melancholy crop: Up from the earth these mosses creep, And this poor Thorn they clasp it round So close, you’d say that they are bent With plain and manifest intent To drag it to the ground; And all have joined in one endeavour To bury this poor Thorn for ever. III “High on a mountain’s highest ridge, Where oft the stormy winter gale Cuts like a scythe, while through the clouds It sweeps from vale to vale; Not five yards from the mountain path, This Thorn you on your left espy; And to the left, three yards beyond, You see a little muddy pond Of water—never dry, Though but of compass small, and bare To thirsty suns and parching air. IV “And, close beside this aged Thorn, There is a fresh and lovely sight, A beauteous heap, a hill of moss, Just half a foot in height. All lovely colours there you see, All colours that were ever seen; And mossy network too is there, As if by hand of lady fair The work had woven been; And cups, the darlings of the eye, So deep is their vermilion dye. V “Ah me! what lovely tints are there Of olive green and scarlet bright, In spikes, in branches, and in stars, Green, red, and pearly white! This heap of earth o’ergrown with moss, Which close beside the Thorn you see, So fresh in all its beauteous dyes, Is like an infant’s grave in size, As like as like can be: But never, never any where, An infant’s grave was half so fair. VI “Now would you see this aged Thorn, This pond, and beauteous hill of moss, You must take care and choose your time The mountain when to cross. For oft there sits between the heap, So like an infant’s grave in size, And that same pond of which I spoke, A Woman in a scarlet cloak, And to herself she cries, ‘ Oh misery! oh misery! Oh woe is me! oh misery!’ VII “At all times of the day and night This wretched Woman thither goes; And she is known to every star, And every wind that blows; And there, beside the Thorn, she sits When the blue daylight’s in the skies, And when the whirlwind’s on the hill, Or frosty air is keen and still, And to herself she cries, ‘ Oh misery! oh misery! Oh woe is me! oh misery!’ ” VIII “Now wherefore, thus, by day and night, In rain, in tempest, and in snow, Thus to the dreary mountain-top Does this poor Woman go? And why sits she beside the Thorn When the blue daylight’s in the sky Or when the whirlwind’s on the hill, Or frosty air is keen and still, And wherefore does she cry?-- O wherefore? wherefore? tell me why Does she repeat that doleful cry?” IX “I cannot tell; I wish I could; For the true reason no one knows: But would you gladly view the spot, The spot to which she goes; The hillock like an infant’s grave, The pond—and Thorn, so old and grey; Pass by her door—’tis seldom shut-- And if you see her in her hut-- Then to the spot away! I never heard of such as dare Approach the spot when she is there.” X “But wherefore to the mountain-top Can this unhappy Woman go, Whatever star is in the skies, Whatever wind may blow?” “Full twenty years are past and gone Since she (her name is Martha Ray) Gave with a maiden’s true good-will Her company to Stephen Hill; And she was blithe and gay, While friends and kindred all approved Of him whom tenderly she loved. XI “And they had fixed the wedding day, The morning that must wed them both; But Stephen to another Maid Had sworn another oath; And, with this other Maid, to church Unthinking Stephen went— Poor Martha! on that woeful day A pang of pitiless dismay Into her soul was sent; A fire was kindled in her breast, Which might not burn itself to rest. XII “They say, full six months after this, While yet the summer leaves were green, She to the mountain-top would go, And there was often seen. What could she seek?—or wish to hide? Her state to any eye was plain; She was with child, and she was mad; Yet often was she sober sad From her exceeding pain. O guilty Father—would that death Had saved him from that breach of faith! XIII “Sad case for such a brain to hold Communion with a stirring child! Sad case, as you may think, for one Who had a brain so wild! Last Christmas-eve we talked of this, And grey-haired Wilfred of the glen Held that the unborn infant wrought About its mother’s heart, and brought Her senses back again: And, when at last her time drew near, Her looks were calm, her senses clear. XIV “More know I not, I wish I did, And it should all be told to you; For what became of this poor child No mortal ever knew; Nay—if a child to her was born No earthly tongue could ever tell; And if ’twas born alive or dead, Far less could this with proof be said; But some remember well, That Martha Ray about this time Would up the mountain often climb. XV “And all that winter, when at night The wind blew from the mountain-peak, ’Twas worth your while, though in the dark, The churchyard path to seek: For many a time and oft were heard Cries coming from the mountain head: Some plainly living voices were; And others, I’ve heard many swear, Were voices of the dead: I cannot think, whate’er they say, They had to do with Martha Ray. XVI “But that she goes to this old Thorn, The Thorn which I described to you, And there sits in a scarlet cloak, I will be sworn is true. For one day with my telescope, To view the ocean wide and bright, When to this country first I came, Ere I had heard of Martha’s name, I climbed the mountain’s height:-- A storm came on, and I could see No object higher than my knee. XVII “ ’Twas mist and rain, and storm and rain: No screen, no fence could I discover; And then the wind! in sooth, it was A wind full ten times over. I looked around, I thought I saw A jutting crag,—and off I ran, Head-foremost, through the driving rain, The shelter of the crag to gain; And, as I am a man, Instead of jutting crag, I found A Woman seated on the ground. XVIII “I did not speak—I saw her face; Her face!—it was enough for me; I turned about and heard her cry, ‘ Oh misery! oh misery!’ And there she sits, until the moon Through half the clear blue sky will go; And when the little breezes make The waters of the pond to shake, As all the country know, She shudders, and you hear her cry, ‘ Oh misery! oh misery!’ ” XIX “But what’s the Thorn? and what the pond? And what the hill of moss to her? And what the creeping breeze that comes The little pond to stir?” “I cannot tell; but some will say She hanged her baby on the tree; Some say she drowned it in the pond, Which is a little step beyond: But all and each agree, The little Babe was buried there, Beneath that hill of moss so fair. XX “I’ve heard, the moss is spotted red With drops of that poor infant’s blood; But kill a new-born infant thus, I do not think she could! Some say, if to the pond you go, And fix on it a steady view, The shadow of a babe you trace, A baby and a baby’s face, And that it looks at you; Whene’er you look on it, ’tis plain The baby looks at you again. XXI “And some had sworn an oath that she Should be to public justice brought; And for the little infant’s bones With spades they would have sought. But instantly the hill of moss Before their eyes began to stir! And, for full fifty yards around, The grass—it shook upon the ground! Yet all do still aver The little Babe lies buried there, Beneath that hill of moss so fair. XXII “I cannot tell how this may be, But plain it is the Thorn is bound With heavy tufts of moss that strive To drag it to the ground; And this I know, full many a time, When she was on the mountain high, By day, and in the silent night, When all the stars shone clear and bright, That I have heard her cry, ‘ Oh misery! oh misery! Oh woe is me! oh misery!’ ” |
"Brenda's Got A Baby"
Brenda's got a Baby Brenda's got a Baby I hear Brenda's got a baby But, Brenda's barely got a brain A damn shame The girl can hardly spell her name (That's not our problem, that's up to Brenda's family) Well let me show ya how it affects the whole community Now Brenda really never knew her moms and her dad was a junky Went in death to his arms, it's sad Cause I bet Brenda doesn't even know Just cause your in the ghetto doesn't mean ya can't grow But oh, that's a thought, my own revelation Do whatever it takes to resist the temptation Brenda got herself a boyfriend Her boyfriend was her cousin, now lets watch the joy end She tried to hide her pregnancy, from her family Who didn't really care to see, or give a damn if she Went out and had a church of kids As long as when the check came they got first dibs Now Brenda's belly is gettin bigger But no one seems to notice any change in her figure She's 12 years old and she's having a baby In love with the molester, who's sexing her crazy And yet she thinks that he'll be with her forever And dreams of a world with the two of them are together, whatever He left her and she had the baby solo, she had it on the bathroom floor And didn't know so, she didn't know, what to throw away and what to keep She wrapped the baby up and threw him in the trash heep I guess she thought she'd get away Wouldn't hear the cries She didn't realize How much the the little baby had her eyes Now the baby's in the trash heep balling Momma can't help her, but it hurts to hear her calling Brenda wants to run away Momma say, you makin' me lose pay, the social workers here everyday Now Brenda's gotta make her own way Can't go to her family, they won't let her stay No money no babysitter, she couldn't keep a job She tried to sell crack, but end up getting robbed So now what's next, there ain't nothing left to sell So she sees sex as a way of leaving hell It's paying the rent, so she really can't complain Prostitute, found slain, and Brenda's her name, she's got a baby Baby (don't you know she's got a baby) (don't you know she's got a baby) (don't you know she's got a baby) (don't you know she's got a baby) (don't you know she's got a baby) (don't you know she's got a baby) |
|
|
The Parallels:
Both texts desribe a woman who is experiencing huge issues and is only met with gossip by the community. "The Thorn" highlights the gossiping of the observing community with statements of "I've heard" and "Some will say." No voice is given to the suffering female figure. The reader's only way of gaining "knowledge" of her is through the limited perceptions of those who speak of her. Similarly, "Brenda's Got a Baby" examines the difficulties Brenda goes through such as incestual molestation, an absent mother and a junkie father. Despite the difficulty of her situation, the chorus repeats "Brenda's got a Baby" and "Don't you know she's got a baby." No attempt is made to help either female figure, but people sure have plenty to say about them.
Both texts desribe a woman who is experiencing huge issues and is only met with gossip by the community. "The Thorn" highlights the gossiping of the observing community with statements of "I've heard" and "Some will say." No voice is given to the suffering female figure. The reader's only way of gaining "knowledge" of her is through the limited perceptions of those who speak of her. Similarly, "Brenda's Got a Baby" examines the difficulties Brenda goes through such as incestual molestation, an absent mother and a junkie father. Despite the difficulty of her situation, the chorus repeats "Brenda's got a Baby" and "Don't you know she's got a baby." No attempt is made to help either female figure, but people sure have plenty to say about them.