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1 " روح روز تابستانی ونفسِ گل سرخی،تابستان اما سپری شده است وموسم گل به آخر رسیده استکجا رفته‌اند؟که می‌داند، که می‌داند.خون قلب منی وجان آرامشی.قلب من امّا سرد است وجانم به سیاهی در نشسته است.کجایی تو ای یار؟که می‌داند، که می‌داند.امید سالیان منی وآفتاب برف‌های زمستانم.سال‌ها امازیر آسمانی ابر اندود به پایان رسیده است.کجا یکدیگر را باز خواهیم یافت؟که می‌داند، که می‌داند "
― Paul Laurence Dunbar , The Lyrics Of Lowly Life
2 " INVITATION TO LOVECome when the nights are bright with starsOr when the moon is mellow;Come when the sun his golden barsDrops on the hay-field yellow.Come in the twilight soft and gray,Come in the night or come in the day,Come, O love, whene'er you may,And you are welcome, welcome.You are sweet, O Love, dear Love,You are soft as the nesting dove.Come to my heart and bring it restAs the bird flies home to its welcome nest.Come when my heart is full of griefOr when my heart is merry;Come with the falling of the leafOr with the redd'ning cherry.Come when the year's first blossom blows,Come when the summer gleams and glows,Come with the winter's drifting snows,And you are welcome, welcome. "
3 " We wear the mask that grins and lies,It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,- -This debt we pay to human guile;With torn and bleeding hearts we smileAnd mouth with myriad subtleties.Why should the world be otherwise,In counting all our tears and sighs?Nay, let them only see thus, whileWe wear the mask.We smile, but, O great Christ, our criesTo thee from tortured souls arise.We sing, but oh the clay is vileBeneath our feet, and long the mile;But let the world dream otherwise,We wear the mask! "
4 " To-day my skies are bare and ashen,And bend on me without a beam.Since love is held the master-passion,Its loss must be the pain supreme "
5 " NIGHT OF LOVEThe moon has left the sky, love,The stars are hiding now,And frowning on the world, love,Night bares her sable brow.The snow is on the ground, love,And cold and keen the air is.I 'm singing here to you, love;You 're dreaming there in Paris.But this is Nature's law, love,Though just it may not seem,That men should wake to sing, love,While maidens sleep and dream.Them care may not molest, love, Nor stir them from their slumbers,Though midnight find the swain, love,Still halting o'er his numbers.I watch the rosy dawn, love,Come stealing up the east,While all things round rejoice, love,That Night her reign has ceased.The lark will soon be heard, love,And on his way be winging;When Nature's poets wake, love,Why should a man be singing? "
6 " DawnAn angel, robed in spotless white,Bent down and kissed the sleeping Night.Night woke to blush; the sprite was gone.Men saw the blush and called it Dawn. "
