Kindle Notes & Highlights
During my first year’s residence in America I wrote the following group of poems. It was the first time I had ever come face to face with such manifest, implacable hate of my race, and my feelings were indescribable.
We opened a little restaurant among our people which also proved a failure because I didn’t put all my time and energy into it.
The city, from Kingston to New York, symbolizes corruption and evil, racial oppression and social injustice.
De mo’ me wuk, de mo’ time hard, I don’t know what fe do; I ben’ me knee an’ pray to Gahd, Yet t’ings same as befo’.
Bring ancient music to my modern heart,
God gave you power to build and help and lift; But you proved prone to persecute and slay And from the high and noble course to drift Into the darkness from the light of day. He gave you law and order, strength of will The lesser peoples of the world to lead; You chose to break and crush them through life’s mill, But for your earthly gains to make them bleed: Because you’ve proved unworthy of your trust, God—He shall humble you down to the dust.
