#Americans #Blacks
From Christ to Ghandi Appears this truth— St. Francis of Assisi Proves it, too: Goodness becomes grandeur
Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree. Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment
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
My old man’s a white old man And my old mother’s black. If ever I cursed my white old man I take my curses back. If ever I cursed my black old mot…
When the shoe strings break On both your shoes And you’re in a hurry— That’s the blues. When you go to buy a candy bar
The ivory gods, And the ebony gods, And the gods of diamond and jade, Sit silently on their temple shelv… While the people
I live on a park bench. You, Park Avenue. Hell of a distance Between us two. I beg a dime for dinner—
I worked for a woman, She wasn’t mean— But she had a twelve—room House to clean. Had to get breakfast,
Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay—
Well, son, I’ll tell you: Life for me ain’t been no crystal… It’s had tacks in it, And splinters, And boards torn up,
Landlord, landlord, My roof has sprung a leak. Don’t you 'member I told you abou… Way last week? Landlord, landlord,
I would liken you To a night without stars Were it not for your eyes. I would liken you To a sleep without dreams
I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh,
Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think
Oh, silver tree! Oh, shining rivers of the soul! In a Harlem cabaret Six long—headed jazzers play. A dancing girl whose eyes are bold