Selected Poems of Langston Hughes (2 page)

I’ve been a slave:

    Caesar told me to keep his door-steps clean.

    I brushed the boots of Washington.

I’ve been a worker:

    Under my hand the pyramids arose.

    I made mortar for the Woolworth Building.

I’ve been a singer:

    All the way from Africa to Georgia

    I carried my sorrow songs.

    I made ragtime.

I’ve been a victim:

    The Belgians cut off my hands in the Congo.

    They lynch me still in Mississippi.

I am a Negro:

    Black as the night is black,

    Black like the depths of my Africa.

I am the American heartbreak—

Rock on which Freedom

Stumps its toe—

The great mistake

That Jamestown

Made long ago.

Perhaps

You will remember

John Brown.

John Brown

Who took his gun,

Took twenty-one companions

White and black,

Went to shoot your way to freedom

Where two rivers meet

And the hills of the

North

And the hills of the

South

Look slow at one another—

And died

For your sake.

Now that you are

Many years free,

And the echo of the Civil War

Has passed away,

And Brown himself

Has long been tried at law,

Hanged by the neck,

And buried in the ground—

Since Harpers Ferry

Is alive with ghosts today,

Immortal raiders

Come again to town—

Perhaps

You will recall

John Brown.

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—

My dream.

And then the wall rose,

Rose slowly,

Slowly,

Between me and my dream.

Rose slowly, slowly,

Dimming,

Hiding,

The light of my dream.

Rose until it touched the sky—

The wall.

Shadow.

I am black.

I lie down in the shadow.

No longer the light of my dream before me,

Above me.

Only the thick wall.

Only the shadow.

My hands!

My dark hands!

Break through the wall!

Find my dream!

Help me to shatter this darkness,

To smash this night,

To break this shadow

Into a thousand lights of sun,

Into a thousand whirling dreams

Of sun!

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.

Beautiful, also, are the souls of my people.

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

Beneath a tall tree

While night comes on gently,

    Dark like me—

That is my dream!

To fling my arms wide

In the face of the sun,

Dance! Whirl! Whirl!

Till the quick day is done.

Rest at pale evening …

A tall, slim tree …

Night coming tenderly

    Black like me.

At the feet o’ Jesus,

Sorrow like a sea.

Lordy, let yo’ mercy

Come driftin’ down on me.

At the feet o’ Jesus

At yo’ feet I stand.

O, ma little Jesus,

Please reach out yo’ hand.

I ask you this:

Which way to go?

I ask you this:

Which sin to bear?

Which crown to put

Upon my hair?

I do not know,

Lord God,

I do not know.

Listen to yo’ prophets,

    Little Jesus!

Listen to yo’ saints!

Fire,

Fire, Lord!

Fire gonna burn ma soul!

I ain’t been good,

I ain’t been clean—

I been stinkin’, low-down, mean.

Fire,

Fire, Lord!

Fire gonna burn ma soul!

Tell me, brother,

Do you believe

If you wanta go to heaben

Got to moan an’ grieve?

Fire,

Fire, Lord!

Fire gonna burn ma soul!

I been stealin’,

Been tellin’ lies,

Had more women

Than Pharaoh had wives.

Fire,

Fire, Lord!

Fire gonna burn ma soul!

I means Fire, Lord!

Fire gonna burn ma soul!

 … and now

When the rumble of death

Rushes down the drain

Pipe of eternity,

And hell breaks out

Into a thousand smiles,

And the devil licks his chops

Preparing to feast on life,

And all the little devils

Get out their bibs

To devour the corrupt bones

Of this world—

Oh-ooo-oo-o!

Then my friends!

Oh, then! Oh, then!

What will you do?

You will turn back

And look toward the mountains.

You will turn back

And grasp for a straw.

You will holler,

Lord-d-d-d-d-ah!

Save me, Lord!

Save me!

And the Lord will say,

In the days of your greatness

I did not hear your voice!

The Lord will say,

In the days of your richness

I did not see your face!

The Lord will say,

No-oooo-ooo-oo-o!

I will not save you now!

And your soul

Will be lost!

Come into the church this morning,

Brothers and Sisters,

And be saved—

And give freely

In the collection basket

That I who am thy shepherd

Might live.

Amen!

Have mercy, Lord!

Po’ an’ black

An’ humble an’ lonesome

An’ a sinner in yo’ sight.

Have mercy, Lord!

Gather up

In the arms of your pity

The sick, the depraved,

The desperate, the tired,

All the scum

Of our weary city

Gather up

In the arms of your pity.

Gather up

In the arms of your love—

Those who expect

No love from above.

The angels wings is white as snow,

    O, white as snow,

               White

                         as

                              snow.

The angels wings is white as snow,

    But I drug ma wings

    In the dirty mire.

    O, I drug ma wings

    All through the fire.

But the angels wings is white as snow,

    White

               as

                    snow.

They put ma body in the ground,

Ma soul went flyin’ o’ the town,

Went flyin’ to the stars an’ moon

A-shoutin’, God, I’s comin’ soon.

O Jesus!

Lord in heaven,

Crown on His head,

Says don’t be ’fraid

Cause you ain’t dead.

Kind Jesus!

An’ now I’m settin’ clean an’ bright

In the sweet o’ ma Lord’s sight—

    Clean an’ bright,

               Clean an’ bright.

Glory! Hallelujah!

The dawn’s a-comin’!

Glory! Hallelujah!

The dawn’s a-comin’!

A black old woman croons

In the amen-corner of the

Ebecaneezer Baptist Church.

A black old woman croons—

The dawn’s a-comin’!

Rocks and the firm roots of trees.

The rising shafts of mountains.

Something strong to put my hands on.

    Sing, O Lord Jesus!

    Song is a strong thing.

    I heard my mother singing

    When life hurt her:

Gonna ride in my chariot some day!

    The branches rise

    From the firm roots of trees.

    The mountains rise

    From the solid lap of earth.

    The waves rise

    From the dead weight of sea.

Sing, O black mother!

Song is a strong thing.

Tambourines!

Tambourines!

Tambourines

To the glory of God!

Tambourines

To glory!

A gospel shout

And a gospel song:

Life is short

But God is long!

Tambourines!

Tambourines!

Tambourines

To glory!

Droning a drowsy syncopated tune,

Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon,

    I heard a Negro play.

Down on Lenox Avenue the other night

By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light

    He did a lazy sway.…

    He did a lazy sway.…

To the tune o’ those Weary Blues.

With his ebony hands on each ivory key

He made that poor piano moan with melody.

    O Blues!

Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool

He played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool.

    Sweet Blues!

Coming from a black man’s soul.

    O Blues!

In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone

I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moan—

    “Ain’t got nobody in all this world,

    Ain’t got nobody but ma self.

    I’s gwine to quit ma frownin’

    And put ma troubles on the shelf.”

Thump, thump, thump, went his foot on the floor.

He played a few chords then he sang some more—

    “I got the Weary Blues

    And I can’t be satisfied.

    Got the Weary Blues

    And can’t be satisfied—

    I ain’t happy no mo’

    And I wish that I had died.”

And far into the night he crooned that tune.

The stars went out and so did the moon.

The singer stopped playing and went to bed

While the Weary Blues echoed through his head.

He slept like a rock or a man that’s dead.

Sometimes when I’m lonely,

Don’t know why,

Keep thinkin’ I won’t be lonely

By and by.

Late last night I

Set on my steps and cried.

Wasn’t nobody gone,

Neither had nobody died.

I was cryin’

Cause you broke my heart in two.

You looked at me cross-eyed

And broke my heart in two—

So I was cryin’

On account of

You!

Here I sit

With my shoes mismated.

Lawdy-mercy!

I’s frustrated!

I woke up this mornin’

’Bout half-past three.

All the womens in town

Was gathered round me.

Sweet gals was a-moanin’,

“Sylvester’s gonna die!”

And a hundred pretty mamas

Bowed their heads to cry.

I woke up little later

’Bout half-past fo’,

The doctor ‘n’ undertaker’s

Both at ma do’.

Black gals was a-beggin’,

“You can’t leave us here!”

Brown-skins cryin’, “Daddy!

Honey! Baby! Don’t go, dear!”

But I felt ma time’s a-comin’,

And I know’d I’s dyin’ fast.

I seed the River Jerden

A-creepin’ muddy past—

But I’s still Sweet Papa ’Vester,

Yes, sir! Long as life do last!

So I hollers, “Com’ere, babies,

Fo’ to love yo’ daddy right!”

And I reaches up to hug ’em—

When the Lawd put out the light.

Then everything was darkness

In a great … big … night.

Tell all my mourners

To mourn in red—

Cause there ain’t no sense

In my bein’ dead.

Could be Hastings Street,

Or Lenox Avenue,

Could be 18th & Vine

And still be true.

Could be 5th & Mound,

Could be Rampart:

When you pawned my watch

You pawned my heart.

Could be you love me,

Could be that you don’t.

Might be that you’ll come back,

Like as not you won’t.

Hastings Street is weary,

Also Lenox Avenue.

Any place is dreary

Without my watch and you.

Cause you don’t love me

Is awful, awful hard.

Gypsy done showed me

My bad luck card.

There ain’t no good left

In this world for me.

Gypsy done tole me—

Unlucky as can be.