Poetry - James Weldon Johnson (moboreader .TXT) đ
- Author: James Weldon Johnson
Book online «Poetry - James Weldon Johnson (moboreader .TXT) đ». Author James Weldon Johnson
Seems lak to me a tear stays in ma eye,
Sence you went away. Ma Ladyâs Lips Am Like de Honey
(Negro Love Song)
Breeze a-sighinâ and a-blowinâ,
Southern summer night.
Stars a-gleaminâ and a-glowinâ,
Moon jes shininâ right.
Strollinâ, like all lovers do,
Down de lane wid Lindy Lou;
Honey on her lips to waste;
âSpeck Iâm gwine to steal a taste.
Oh, ma ladyâs lips am like de honey,
Ma ladyâs lips am like de rose;
Anâ Iâm jes like de little bee a-buzzinâ
âRound de flower whaâ de nectah grows.
Ma ladyâs lips dey smile so temptinâ,
Ma ladyâs teeth so white dey shine,
Oh, ma ladyâs lips so tantalizinâ,
Ma ladyâs lips so close to mine.
Bird a-whistlinâ and a-swayinâ
In de live-oak tree;
Seems to me he keeps a-sayinâ,
âKiss dat gal foâ me.â
Look heah, Mister Mockinâ Bird,
Gwine to take you at yoâ word;
If I meets ma Waterloo,
Gwine to blame it all on you.
Oh, ma ladyâs lips am like de honey,
Ma ladyâs lips am like de rose;
Anâ Iâm jes like de little bee a-buzzinâ
âRound de flower whaâ de nectah grows.
Ma ladyâs lips dey smile so temptinâ,
Ma ladyâs teeth so white dey shine,
Oh, ma ladyâs lips so tantalizinâ,
Ma ladyâs lips so close to mine.
Honey in de rose, I spose, is
Put der foâ de bee;
Honey on her lips, I knows, is
Put der jes foâ me.
Seen a sparkle in her eye,
Heard her heave a little sigh;
Felt her kinder squeeze ma hanâ,
âNuff to make me understanâ.
(A Lecture on Modern Education)
Look heah, Tunk!â âNow, ainât dis awful! Tâought I sont you off to school.
Donât you know dat you is growinâ up to be a regâlah fool?
Whahâs dem books dat Iâs done bought you? Look heah, boy, you tell me quick,
Whahâs dat Webster blue-back spellah anâ dat branâ new ârifmatic?
Wâile Iâm tâinkinâ you is lahninâ in de school, why bless ma soul!
You off in de woods a-playinâ. Canât you do like you is tole?
Boy, I tell you, itâs jes scanâlous dâway dat you is goinâ on.
Anâ you sholy goân be sorry, jes as true as you is boân.
Heah Iâm tryinâ hard to raise you as a credit to dis race,
Anâ you tryinâ heap much harder fuâ to come up in disgrace.
Dese de days wâen men donât git up to de top by hooks anâ crooks;
Tell you now, deyâs got to git der standinâ on a pile oâ books.
Wâen you sees a darkey goinâ to de fielâ as soon as light,
Followinâ a mule across it fâom de mawninâ tel de night,
Wukinâ all his life fuâ vittles, hoeinâ âtween de cottân rows,
Wâen he knocks off ole anâ tiahâd, owninâ nutân but his cloâes,
You kin put it down to ignunce, aftah all whatâs done anâ said,
You kin bet dat dat same darkey ainât got nutân in his head.
Ainât you seed dem wâite men setân in der awfice? Donât you know
Dey goes der âbout nine each mawnin? Bless yoâ soul, deyâs out by foâ.
Dey jes does a little writinâ; does dat by some easy means;
Gals jes set anâ play piannah on dem printinâ press muchines.
Chile, dem men knows how to figgah, how to use dat little pen,
Anâ dey knows dat blue-back spellah fâom beginninâ to de enâ.
Datâs de âfect of education; datâs de tâing whatâs gwine to rule;
Git dem books, you lazy rascal! Git back to yoâ place in school!
(A Negro Serenade)
De river is a-glisteninâ in de moonlight,
De owl is setân high up in de tree;
De little stars am twinklinâ wid a sofâ light,
De night seems only jes fuâ you anâ me.
Thoo de trees de breezes am a-sighinâ,
Breathinâ out a sort oâ loverâs croon,
Derâs nobody lookinâ or a-spyinâ,
Nobody but de owl anâ de moon.
Nobodyâs lookinâ but de owl anâ de moon,
Anâ de night is balmy; fuâ de month is June;
Come den, Honey, wonât you? Come to meet me soon,
Wile nobodyâs lookinâ but de owl anâ de moon.
I feel so kinder lonely all de daytime,
It seems I raly donât know what to do;
I jes keep sort a-longinâ fuâ de night-time,
âCause den I know dat I can be wid you.
Anâ de thought jes sets my brain a-swayinâ,
Anâ my heart a-beatinâ to a tune;
Come, de owl wonât tell wâat weâs a-sayinâ,
Anâ cose you know we kin trusâ de moon.
(Lullaby)
Shet yoâ eyes, ma little pickaninny, go to sleep
Mammyâs watchinâ by you all de wâile;
Daddy is a-wukinâ down in de cottân fielâ,
Wukinâ fuâ his little honey child.
Anâ yoâ mammyâs heart is jes a-brimminâ full oâ lub
Fuâ you fâom yoâ head down to yoâ feet;
Oh, no mattah wâat some othah folks may tâink oâ you,
To yoâ mammyâs heart youâs mighty sweet.
Youâs sweet to yoâ mammy jes de same;
Datâs why she calls you Honey fuâ yoâ name.
Yoâ face is black, datâs true,
Anâ yoâ hair is woolly, too,
But, youâs sweet to yoâ mammy jes de same.
Up der in de big house wâere dey lib so rich anâ granâ
Deyâs got chillen dat dey lubs, I sâpose;
Chillen dat is purty, oh, but dey canât lub dem moâ
Dan yoâ mammy lubs you, heaben knows!
Dey may tâink youâs homely, anâ yoâ cloâes dey may be poâ,
But yoâ shininâ eyes, dey holâs a light
Dat, my Honey, wâen you opens dem so big anâ rounâ,
Makes you lubly in yoâ mammyâs sight.
Wâen ole Mister Sun gits tiahâd a-hanginâ
High up in de sky;
Wâen der ainât no thunder and lightâninâ a-banginâ,
Anâ de crapâs done all laid by;
Wâen yoâ bones ainât achinâ wid de rheumatics,
Den yoâ ride de mule to town,
Git a great big jug oâ de ole corn juice,
Anâ wâen you drink her downâ â
Jes lay away ole Trouble,
Anâ dry up all yoâ tears;
Yoâ pleasure shoâ to double
Anâ you bound to lose yoâ keers.
Jes lay away ole Sorrer
High upon de shelf;
And never mind to-morrer,
âTwill take care of itself.
Wâen ole Mister Age begins a-stealinâ
Thoo yoâ back anâ knees,
Wâen
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