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1 " I am a Negro: Black as the night is black, Black like the depths of my Africa.I’ve been a slave: Cæsar 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 now in Texas.I am a Negro: Black as the night is black, Black like the depths of my Africa. "
― Langston Hughes , The Weary Blues
2 " The lazy, laughing SouthWith blood on its mouth.The sunny-faced South, Beast-strong, Idiot-brained.The child-minded SouthScratching in the dead fire’s ashesFor a Negro’s bones. Cotton and the moon, Warmth, earth, warmth, The sky, the sun, the stars, The magnolia-scented South.Beautiful, like a woman,Seductive as a dark-eyed whore, Passionate, cruel, Honey-lipped, syphilitic— That is the South.And I, who am black, would love herBut she spits in my face.And I, who am black,Would give her many rare giftsBut she turns her back upon me. So now I seek the North— The cold-faced North, For she, they say, Is a kinder mistress,And in her house my childrenMay escape the spell of the South. "
3 " We buried him high on a windy hill,But his soul went out to sea.I know, for I heard, when all was still,His sea-soul say to me:Put no tombstone at my head,For here I do not make my bed.Strew no flowers on my grave,I’ve gone back to the wind and wave.Do not, do not weep for me,For I am happy with my sea. "
4 " AfraidWe cry among the skyscrapersAs our ancestorsCried among the palms in AfricaBecause we are alone,It is night,And we're afraid. "
5 " Mexican Market WomanThis ancient hagWho sits upon the groundSelling her scanty waresDay in, day round,Has known high wind-swept mountains,And the sun has madeHer skin so brown. "
6 " Sea CalmHow still,How strangely stillThe water is today.It is not goodFor waterTo be so still that way. "
