#AmericanWriters
We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark
The night is beautiful, So the faces of my people. The stars are beautiful, So the eyes of my people. Beautiful, also, is the sun.
I went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
It was a long time ago. I have almost forgotten my dream. But it was there then, In front of me, Bright like a sun—
I went down to the river, I set down on the bank. I tried to think but couldn’t, So I jumped in and sank. I came up once and hollered!
Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you— Then, it will be true. I wonder if it’s that simple?
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
When you turn the corner And you run into yourself Then you know that you have turned All the corners that are left
Let’s go see Old Abe Sitting in the marble and the moon… Sitting lonely in the marble and t… Quiet for ten thousand centuries,… Quiet for a million, million years…
Well, son, I’ll tell you: Life for me ain’t been no crystal… It’s had tacks in it, And splinters, And boards torn up,
Democracy will not come Today, this year Nor ever Through compromise and fear. I have as much right
I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh,
It would be nice In any case, To someday meet you Face to face Walking down
You and your whole race. Look down upon the town in which y… And be ashamed. Look down upon white folks And upon yourselves
Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow… I heard a Negro play. Down on Lenox Avenue the other ni… By the pale dull pallor of an old…