Poetry of Langston Hughes

CROSS

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 mother
And wished she were in hell,
I'm sorry for that evil wish
And now I wish her well
My old man died in a fine big house.
My ma died in a shack.
I wonder were I'm going to die,
Being neither white nor black?

DREAM VARIATION

To fling my arms wide
In some of the sun,
To whirl and to dance
Till till the white day is gone
Then rest at cool evening
Beneath a tall tree
While a night comed on gently;
Black like me;
That is my dream!

To fling my arms wide
In the face of the sun,
Dance ! whirl ! whirl !
Till the quick day is done.
Rest at pale evening......
A tall, slim tree.....
Night come tenderly
Black like me

Langston Hughes, 1927