Lament for

(Dark Veoples

and

Other Voems

by

Langston Hughes

Lament for

(Dark Peoples

and

Other Voems

by

Langston htughes

L A M E N T F O R D A R K P E O P L E S & O T H E R P O E M S

L A M E N T F O R D A R K P E O P L E S & O T H E R P O E M S

L A M E N T F O R D A R K P E O P L E S & O T H E R P O E M S

LAMENT FOR DARK PEOPLES

AND OTHER POEMS

BY

LANGSTON HUGHES

1944

B Y W A Y O F I N T R O D U C T I O N

Some of the most characteristic expressions of Amer ican art are Negro or N e g r o i d , derivatives of the Negro folk l i f e ; and Amer ica basks i n their influence, thrives upon their con­sumption and vulgarization. This because these expressions have an almost irr is ist ible hold upon the human soul — since, being soundly pr imit ive , they are basically and universally human.

Slavery put upon the Negro conditions which as economic and civic handicaps and as race prejudice st i l l hamper. O n the other hand this prejudice preserved the peculiar Negro folk-values and intensified their modes of expression.

Against this background we have to see the work of the younger Amer ican Negro poets. The new negro poetry is the expression of a new racia l consciousness and self-con­ception. It is a frank acceptance of the race without the wearying appeals to pity, and the conscious philosophy of defence. Nevertheless it sti l l has an undernote of melancholy, the melancholy of a tormented people.

Most of these younger Negro poets use i n many of their poems the form of the o ld folk-ballads, the spirituals and the blues.

[5]

T H E D A R K

L A M E N T F O R D A R K P E O P L E S

I was a red man one time, But the white men came. I was a black man, too, But the white men came.

They drove me out of the forest. They took me away f rom the jungles. I lost my trees. I lost my silver moons.

N o w they've caged me In the circus of c ivi l izat ion. N o w I herd wi th the many — Caged i n the circus of c ivi l izat ion.

[8]

T H E N E G R O

I am a N e g r o : Black as the night is black, Black l ike the depths of my A f r i c a .

I've been a slave: Caesar told me to keep his door-steps clean. I brushed the boots of Washington.

I've been a worker : Under my hand the pyramids arose. I made mortar for the Woolworth B u i l d i n g .

I've been a singer: A l l the way f rom A f r i c a to Georgia I carried my sorrow songs. I made ragtime.

I've been a v i c t i m : The Belgians cut off my hands i n the Congo. They lynch me now i n Texas.

I am a N e g r o : Black as the night is black. Black l ike the depths of my A f r i c a .

[9]

T H E N E G R O S P E A K S O F R I V E R S

I've known r ivers : I've known rivers ancient as the wor ld and older than the

flow of human blood i n human veins.

M y soul has grown deep like the rivers.

I bathed i n the Euphrates when dawns were young. I buil t my hut near the Congo and it lul led me to sleep. I looked upon the N i l e and raised the pyramids above it. I heard the singing of the Mississ ippi when Abe L i n c o l n went

down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy bosom turn a l l golden i n the sunset.

I've known r ivers : Ancient , dusky rivers.

M y soul has grown deep like the rivers.

(To W . E . B . Dubois)

[10]

S U I C I D E ' S N O T E

The calm, Cool face of the river Asked me for a kiss.

[11]

P O E M

I loved my fr iend. H e went away f rom me. There's nothing more to The poem ends, Soft as it began — I loved m y fr iend.

(To F . S.)

[12]

P O E M

W e have tomorrow Bright before us L i k e a flame.

Yesterday A night-gone thing, A sun-down name.

A n d dawn-today Broad arch above the road we came.

[13]

E P I L O G U E

I, too, s ing A m e r i c a .

I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh, A n d eat well , A n d grow strong.

Tomorrow, I ' l l sit at the table When company comes. N o b o d y ' l l dare Say to me, ,,Eat i n the k i tchen , " Then.

Besides, They ' l l see how beautiful I am A n d be ashamed —

I, too, am A m e r i c a .

[14]

L O V E

i

i

C R O S S

M y old man's a white old man A n d my old mother's black. If ever I cursed my white o ld man I take my curses back.

If ever I cursed my black old mother A n d wished she were in hel l , I 'm sorry for that evil wish A n d now I wish her well .

M y old man died i n a fine b i g house. M y ma died i n a shack. I wonder where I 'm gonna die, Be ing neither white nor black?

[16]

S O N G F O R A D A R K G I R L

W a y down South i n D i x i e (Break the heart of me)

They hung my black young lover T o a cross roads tree.

W a y down South i n D i x i e (Bruised body high i n air)

I asked the white L o r d Jesus What was the use of prayer.

W a y down South i n Dix ie (Break the heart of me)

Love is a naked shadow O n a gnarled and naked tree.

[17]

T H E W H I T E O N E S

I do not hate you, F o r your faces are beautiful, too. I do not hate y o u , Y o u r faces are w h i r l i n g lights

of loveliness and splendor, too. Yet why do you torture me, 0 , white strong ones, W h y do you torture me?

[18]

A B L A C K P I E R R O T

I am a black P ier ro t : She d i d not love me, So I crept away into the night A n d the night was black, too.

I am a black P ier ro t : She d i d not love me, So I wept unt i l the red dawn D r i p p e d blood over the eastern hills A n d my heart was bleeding, too.

I am a black P i e r r o t : She d i d not love me, So with my once gay-colored soul Shrunken like a balloon without a ir , I went forth i n the morning To seek a new brown love.

[19]

A U N T S U E ' S S T O R I E S

A u n t Sue has a head fu l l of stories. A u n t Sue has a whole heart fu l l of stories. Summer nights on the front porch A u n t Sue cuddles a brown-faced chi ld to her bosom A n d tells h i m stories.

Black slaves W o r k i n g in the hot sun, A n d black slaves W a l k i n g in the dewy night, A n d black slaves S inging sorrow songs on the banks of a mighty r iver M i n g l e themselves softly In the flow of o ld A u n t Sue's voice, M i n g l e themselves softly In the dark shadows that cross and recross A u n t Sue's stories.

A n d the dark-faced chi ld , l istening, K n o w s that A u n t Sue's stories are real stories. He knows that A u n t Sue Never got her stories out of any book at a l l , But that they came Right out of her own life.

A n d the dark-faced chi ld is quiet Of a summer night Listening to A u n t Sue's stories.

[20]

T R O U B L E D W O M A N

She stands In the quiet darkness, This troubled woman, Bowed by Weariness and p a i n , L i k e an A u t u m n flower In the frozen r a i n . L i k e a Wind-b lown autumn flower That never lifts its head A g a i n .

[21]

W H E N S U E W E A R S R E D

When Susanna Jones wears red Her face is l ike an ancient cameo Turned brown by the ages.

Come whith a blast of trumpets, Jesus!

W h e n Susanna Jones wears red A queen f rom some time-dead Egypt ian night Walks once again.

B low trumpets, Jesus!

A n d the beauty of Susanna Jones i n red Burns in my heart a love-fire sharp like pain .

Sweet silver trumpets, Jesus!

[22]

D R E S S E D U P

I had ma clothes cleaned Just l ike new. I put 'em on but I st i l l feels blue.

I bought a new hat, Sho is fine, But I wish I had back that O l d gal o' mine.

I got new shoes — They don't hurt ma feet, But I ain't got nobody F o r to call me sweet.

[23]

R E A S O N S W H Y

Just because I loves you — That's de reason why M a soul is fu l l of color L i k e de wings of a butterfly.

Just because I loves you That's de reason why M a heart's a fluttering aspen W h e n you pass by.

[24J

B L U E S

P O ' B O Y B L U E S

When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. Since I come up N o r t h de Whole wide world's turned co

I was a good boy, Never done no wrong. Yes, I was a good boy, Never done no wrong, But this wor ld is weary A n ' de road is hard an ' long.

I fell i n love with A gal I thought was k i n d . F e l l in love wi th A gal I thought was k i n d . She made me lose ma money A n ' almost lose ma m i n d .

Weary, weary, Weary early i n de morn . Weary, weary, E a r l y , early i n de morn . I'se so weary I wish I 'd never been born.

[26]

N I G H T A N D M O R N

Sun's a settin', This is what I 'm gonna sing. Sun's a settin', This is what I 'm gonna s ing : I feels de blues a comin ' , Wonder what de blues' l l b r ing

Sun's a r i s i n ' , This is gonna be ma song. Sun's a r i s i n ' , This is gonna be ma song: I could be blue but I been blue al l night long.

H O M E S I C K B L U E S

De rai l road bridge's A sad song i n de air . De ra i l road bridge's A sad song in de air . Ever time de trains pass I wants to go somewhere.

I went down to de station. M a heart was i n ma mouth. Went down to de station. Heart was i n ma mouth L o o k i n ' for a box car To r o l l me to de South.

Homesick blues, L a w d , 'S a terrible thing to have. Homesick blues is A terrible thing to have. To keep f rom c r y i n ' I opens ma mouth an ' laughs.

[28]

T H E W E A R Y B L U E S

D r o n i n g a drowsy syncopated tune, R o c k i n g back and forth to a mellow croon,

I heard a Negro play. D o w n on Lenox Avenue the other night B y the pale dul l pallor of an o ld gas light

He d i d a lazy sway. . . . He d id a lazy sway. . . .

T o the tune o' those Weary Blues. W i t h his ebony hands on each ivory key H e made that poor piano moan with melody.

0 Blues! Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool H e played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool .

Sweet Bues! Coming f rom a black man's soul .

0 Blues ! In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone I heard that Negro s ing, that o ld piano moan —

, , A i n ' t got nobody i n al l this w o r l d , A i n ' t got nobody but ma self. I's gwine to quit ma f r o w n i n ' A n d put ma troubles on the shelf ."

T h u m p , thump, thump, went his foot on the f loor. H e played a few chords then he sang some more —

„I got the Weary Blues A n d I can't be satisfied. Got the Weary Blues A n d can't be satisfied — 1 ain't happy no mo' A n d I wish that I had d i e d . "

[29]

A n d far into the night he crooned that tune. The stars went out and so d id the moon. The singer stopped playing and went to bed W h i l e the Weary Blues echoed through his head. H e slept l ike a rock or man that's dead.

[30]

T O M I D N I G H T N A N A T L E R O Y ' S

Strut and wiggle, Shameless gal . Wouldn ' t no good fellow Be your pal .

Hear dat music . . . . Jungle night. Hear dat music . . . . And the moon was ivhile.

Sing your Blues song, Pretty baby. Y o u want l o v i n ' A n d you don't mean maybe.

Jungle lover . . . . Night black boy. . . . Two against the moon And the moon was joy.

Strut and wiggle, Shameless N a n . Wou l d n ' t no good fellow Be your man.

[31]

S O N G F O R A B A N J O D A N C E

Shake your brown feet, honey, Shake your brown feet, chile, Shake your brown feet, honey, Shake 'em swift and w i l ' —

Get way back, honey, D o that low-down step. W a l k on over, dar l ing ,

N o w ! Come out W i t h your left.

Shake your brown feet, honey, Shake 'em, honey chile.

Sun's going down this evening — M i g h t never rise no mo ' . The sun's going down this very night M i g h t never rise no m o ' — So dance with swift feet, honey,

(The banjo's sobbing low) Dance with swift feet, honey —

M i g h t never dance no mo' .

Shake your brown feet, L i z a , Shake 'em, L i z a , chile, Shake your brown feet, L i z a ,

(The music's soft and wil ' ) Shake your brown feet, L i z a ,

(The banjo's sobbing low) The sun's going down this very night M i g h t never rise no mo' .

[32]

B L U E S F A N T A S Y

H e y ! H e y ! That's what the Blues singers say. S inging minor melodies They laugh, H e y ! H e y !

M y man's done left me, Chi le , he's gone away. M y good man's left me, Babe, he's gone away. N o w the c r y i n ' blues Haunts me night and day.

H e y ! . . . . H e y !

Weary , Weary , Trouble , pain . Sun's gonna shine Somewhere A g a i n .

I got a ra i l road ticket, Pack my trunk and ride.

S ing 'em, sister!

[33]

Got a ra i l road ticket, Pack my trunk and ride. A n d when I get on the train I ' l l cast m y blues aside.

Laughing , H e y ! . . . . H e y ! L a u g h a loud, H e y ! H e y !

[34]

I N T E R L U D E

D R E A M V A R I A T I O N

T o f l i n g my arms wide In some place of the sun, To w h i r l and to dance T i l l the white day is done. Then rest at cool evening Beneath a tal l tree W h i l e night comes on gently,

Dark l ike me, — That is my dream!

To f l ing my arms wide In the face of the sun, Dance! w h i r l ! w h i r l ! T i l l the quick day is done. Rest at pale evening . . . . A tal l , s l im tree . . . . Night coming tenderly

Black like me.

[36]

W I N T E R M O O N

H o w thin and sharp is the moon tonight! H o w thin and sharp and ghostly white Is the s l im curved crook of the moon tonight!

[37]

S E A C A L M

H o w st i l l , H o w strangely sti l l The water is today. It is not good F o r water T o be so sti l l that way.

[38]

S P I R I T U A L S

F E E T 0 ' J E S U S

A t de feet o' Jesus, Sorrow like a sea. L o r d y , let yo ' mercy Come d r i f t i n ' down on me.

At de feet o' Jesus, A t y o ' feet I stand. 0 , ma precious Jesus, Please reach out y o ' hand.

[40]

J U D G M E N T

They put ma body i n de ground, M y soul went f l y i n ' o' de town.

L o r d Jesus!

Went f l y i n ' to de stars an ' moon A shoutin' G o d , I's comin ' soon.

O Jesus!

L o r d i n heaben, Crown on H i s head, Says don't be ' f ra id Cause you ain't dead.

K i n d Jesus!

A n ' now I 'm settin' clean an ' bright In de sweet o' ma Lord ' s sight, —

Clean an ' bright, Clean an ' bright.

[41]

P R A Y E R

I ask you this : W h i c h way to go? I ask you this : W h i c h sin to bear? W h i c h crown to put U p o n my ha i r? I do not know, L o r d G o d , I do not know.

[42]

C O N T E N T S B I O G R A P H Y

B I B L I O G R A P H Y C O L O P H O N

B y way of Introduction 5 The Dark Lament for dark peoples 8

The Negro 9 The Negro speaks of rivers 10 Suicide's note 11 Poem (I loved my friend) 12 Poem (We have to-morrow bright before us) 13 I, too 14

Love Cross 16 Song for a dark g i r l 17 The white ones 18 A black Pierrot 19 Aunt Sue's stories 20 Troubled woman 21 When Sue wears red 22 Dressed up 23 Reasons why 24

Blues P o ' B o y Blues 26 Night and morn 27 Homesick blues 28 The weary blues 29 To midnight N a n at Leroy's 31 Song for a Banjo Dance 32 Blues Fantasy 33

Interlude Dream variat ion 36 Winter moon 37 Sea Ca lm 38

Spirituals Feet o'Jesus 40 Judgment Day 41 Prayer 42

[44]

Langston Hughes was born in Jop l in , M i s s o u r i , February 1, 1902. He studied at Columbia Universi ty for a year. In 1923 and 1924 he travelled as a member of the crew of freight steamers and visited A f r i c a , England, France, H o l ­land, Spain and Italy. After his wanderings he studied at L i n c o l n Universi ty , Pennsylvania, and was a clerk at the office of the Associat ion for the Study of Negro L i f e and His tory .

Except for his books, he published works i n many periodicals.

Weary Blues (Poems) K n o p f 1926 F ine Clothes to the Jew (Poems) K n o p f 1927 Not without laughter ( A Novel) K n o p f 1930 Negro M o t h e r ; a booklet of six dramatic recitations

i n rhymed verse Golden Stair Press 1931 Dream Keeper and other Poems K n o p f 1932 Scottsboro l i m i t e d ; four poems and a play in verse

Golden Stair Press 1932 Ways of white folks (Short Stories) K n o p f 1934 B i g Sea; A n Autobiography K n o p f 1940 W i t h A r n a Bontemps:

Popo and F i f i n a , chi ldren of Haïti . . . M a c m i l l a n 1932

[45]

Lament for Dark Peoples and other poems

by Langston Hughes

were selected and introduced by an amateur.

This edition was printed in Linolype-Bodoni

and consists of

250 copies. Apart from these

50 copies have been printed on special paper,

numbered from 1—50.

t

1

-V!