#AmericanWriters
I’ve known rivers: I’ve known rivers ancient as the w… My soul has grown deep like the ri… I bathed in the Euphrates when da… I built my hut near the Congo and…
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
I look at the world From awakening eyes in a black fac… And this is what I see: This fenced—off narrow space Assigned to me.
My old mule, He’s gota grin on his face. He’s been a mule so long He’s forgotten about his race. I’m like that old mule —
I am your son, white man! Georgia dusk And the turpentine woods. One of the pillars of the temple f… You are my son!
I was so sick last night I Didn’t hardly know my mind. So sick last night I Didn’t know my mind. I drunk some bad licker that
I take my dreams and make of them… and a round fountain with a beauti… And a song with a broken heart and… Do you understand my dreams? Sometimes you say you do,
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
In places like Selma, Alabama, Kids say, In places like Chicago and New York...
Now dreams Are not available To the dreamers, Nor songs To the singers.
Being walkers with the dawn and mo… Walkers with the sun and morning, We are not afraid of night, Nor days of gloom, Nor darkness—
I worked for a woman, She wasn’t mean— But she had a twelve—room House to clean. Had to get breakfast,
To fling my arms wide In some place of the sun, To whirl and to dance Till the white day is done. Then rest at cool evening
I got to leave this town. It’s a lonesome place. Got to leave this town cause It’s a lonesome place. A po’, po’ boy can’t
That Justice is a blind goddess Is a thing to which we black are w… Her bandage hides two festering so… That once perhaps were eyes.