Poeticous Logo
es
English Español Français Italiano
Langston Hughes

Langston Hughes

Dream Boogie

Good morning, daddy!
Ain’t you heard
The boogie—woogie rumble
Of a dream deferred?
 
Listen closely:
You’ll hear their feet
Beating out and beating out a —
 
You think
It’s a happy beat?
 
Listen to it closely:
Ain’t you heard
something underneath
like a —
 
What did I say?
 
Sure,
I’m happy!
Take it away!
 
Hey, pop!
Re—bop!
Mop!
 
Y—e—a—h!

#AmericanWriters

Otras obras de Langston Hughes...
Madam and the Census Man

The census man, The day he came round, Wanted my name To put it down. I said, Johnson,
Remember

Remember The days of bondage— And remembering— Do not stand still. Go to the highest hill
The Weary Blues

Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow… I heard a Negro play. Down on Lenox Avenue the other ni… By the pale dull pallor of an old…
Sick Room

How quiet It is in this sick room Where on the bed A silent woman lies between two lo… Life and Death,
Lonesome Place

I got to leave this town. It’s a lonesome place. Got to leave this town cause It’s a lonesome place. A po’, po’ boy can’t
 1
Morning After

I was so sick last night I Didn’t hardly know my mind. So sick last night I Didn’t know my mind. I drunk some bad licker that
Merry-Go-Round

Where is the Jim Crow section On this merry—go—round, Mister, cause I want to ride? Down South where I come from White and colored
Deceased

Harlem Sent him home in a long box— Too dead To know why:
Ennui

It’s such a Bore Being always Poor.
 2
A Dream Deferred

What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore— And then run?
 2
The Ballad of the Landlord

Landlord, landlord, My roof has sprung a leak. Don’t you 'member I told you abou… Way last week? Landlord, landlord,
 1
Question [1]

When the old junk man Death Comes to gather up our bodies And toss them into the sack of obl… I wonder if he will find The corpse of a white multi—millio…
 1
To Artina

I will take you heart. I will take your soul out of your… As though I were God. I will not be satisfied With the touch of your hand
Peace

We passed their graves: The dead men there, Winners or losers, Did not care. In the dark
Ballad of the Gypsy

I went to the Gypsy’s. Gypsy settin’ all alone. I said, Tell me, Gypsy, When will my gal be home? Gypsy said, Silver,
 3



Arriba