#Americans
IF the oriole calls like last yea… when the south wind sings in the o… if the leaves climb and climb on a… saying over a song learnt from the… if the crickets send up the same o…
THREE tailors of Tooley Street… The names are forgotten. It is a… Cutters or bushelmen or armhole ba… cross-legged stitching, snatched a… other thimbles.
LET it go on; let the love of thi… Time runs with an ax and a hammer,… Let the love of this hour go on; l… Time is a young man with ballplaye… Let love go on; the heartbeats are…
THE young child, Christ, is stra… And asks questions of the old men,… Found under running water for all… And found under shadows thrown on… By tall trees looking downward, ol…
I KNOW a Jew fish crier down on… voice like a north wind blowing ov… in January. He dangles herring before prospect… a joy identical with that of Pavlo…
I AM the nigger. Singer of songs, Dancer. . . Softer than fluff of cotton. . . Harder than dark earth
In the loam we sleep, In the cool moist loam, To the lull of years that pass And the break of stars, From the loam, then,
I could love you as dry roots love rain. I could hold you as branches in the wind brandish petals.
I DON’T know how he came, shambling, dark, and strong. He stood in the city and told men: My people are fools, my people are… Always he kept on asking: Where d…
HAVE I told any man to be a liar… Have I sold ice to the poor in su… Have I given any man an earful to… Have I put wool in my own ears wh… Have I taken dollars from the liv…
I WANTED a man’s face looking i… of life With something proud on his face,… of the jaws, No gulp of the throat leaves the f…
They have painted and sung the women washing their hair, and the plaits and strands in the… and the golden combs and the combs of elephant tusks
AM I the river your white birds f… Are you the green valley my silver… The two of us a bowl of blue sky d… Who picked you out of the first great whirl of no…
THE FLUTTER of blue pigeon’s… Under a river bridge Hunting a clean dry arch, A corner for a sleep– This flutters here in a woman’s ha…
FOR the gladness here where the s… evening on the weeds at the river, Our prayer of thanks. For the laughter of children who t… bareheaded in the summer grass,
