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Countee Cullen

Countee Cullen

For a Poet

I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth,
And laid them away in a box of gold;
Where long will cling the lips of the moth,
I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth;
I hide no hate; I am not even wroth
Who found earth’s breath so keen and cold;
I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth,
And laid them away in a box of gold.

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Altre opere di Countee Cullen...
Heritage

What is Africa to me: Copper sun or scarlet sea, Jungle star or jungle track, Strong bronzed men, or regal black Women from whose loins I sprang
 1
To Certain Critics

Then call me traitor if you must, Shout treason and default! Say I betray a sacred trust Aching beyond this vault. I’ll bear your censure as your pra…
A Brown Girl Dead

With two white roses on her breast… White candles at head and feet, Dark Madonna of the grave she res… Lord Death has found her sweet. Her mother pawned her wedding ring
Tableau

Locked arm in arm they cross the w… The black boy and the white, The golden splendor of the day The sable pride of night. From lowered blinds the dark folk…
Karenge ya Marenge

Wherein are words sublime or noble… Invests one speech with haloed emi… Makes it the sesame for all doors… Yet in its like sees but impertine… Is it the hue? Is it the cast of…
Uncle Jim

“White folks is white,” says uncle… “A platitude,” I sneer; And then I tell him so is milk, And the froth upon his beer. His heart walled up with bitternes…
Lines to my Father

The many sow, but only the chosen… Happy the wretched host if Day be… That with the cool oblivion of sle… A dawnless Night may soothe the s… If from the soil our sweat enriche…
Saturday’s Child

Some are teethed on a silver spoon… With the stars strung for a rattle… I cut my teeth as the black raccoo… For implements of battle. Some are swaddled in silk and down…
Thoughts in a Zoo

They in their cruel traps, and we… Survey each other’s rage, and pass… Commiserating each the other’s woe… To mitigate his own pain’s fiery g… Man could but little proffer in ex…
Incident

Once riding in old Baltimore, Heart-filled, head-filled with gle… I saw a Baltimorean Keep looking straight at me. Now I was eight and very small,
 2
The Wise

Dead men are wisest, for they know How far the roots of flowers go, How long a seed must rot to grow. Dead men alone bear frost and rain On throbless heart and heatless br…
John Keats, by Joseph Severn
To John Keats, Poet, at Spring Time

I cannot hold my peace, John Keat… There never was a spring like this… It is an echo, that repeats My last year’s song and next year’… I know, in spite of all men say
Simon the Cyrenian Speaks

He never spoke a word to me, And yet He called my name; He never gave a sign to me, And yet I knew and came. At first I said, “I will not bear
To the Swimmer

Now as I watch you, strong of arm… With the waves that rush against y… Into my heart, grown each day more… Of mind and soul that will not be… With an outward stroke of power in…
Yet Do I Marvel

I doubt not God is good, well-mea… And did He stoop to quibble could… The little buried mole continues b… Why flesh that mirrors Him must s… Make plain the reason tortured Ta…



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