POETRY IS A DREAM AND A RIVER
And Much More on That Later Today
But for now, two poems by my poetic father Lansgton Hughes. One of my many unlicensed poetic fathers, Langston Hughes reminds me that poetry lives in the human heart far more than in one month called April. Langston Hughes, a prince of the Harlem Renaissance, reminds me that simple history black and white in living color is far more than February, Black History Month. My father Langston reminds me that life is a dream and a river. The river, this life, washes over all of us and all our dreams run together to a common yet noble sea.
The Heretik Joe Ivory Mattingly ask you to share your hopes and comments freely.
Thanks.
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.
“Dream Variation”
Langston Hughes
I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the
flow of human blood in human veins.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
went down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy
bosom turn all golden in the sunset.
I've known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
“The Negro Speaks of River”
Langston Hughes
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.
“Dream Variation”
Langston Hughes
I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the
flow of human blood in human veins.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
went down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy
bosom turn all golden in the sunset.
I've known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
“The Negro Speaks of River”
Langston Hughes
Absolutely beautiful poetry!
Posted by: Kath | May 03, 2005 at 07:33 PM