Mother to Son (by Langston Hughes)

Langston Hughes in 1925
Mother to Son
by Langston Hughes
[first published in the December 1922 issue of Crisis]

Well, son, I’ll tell you:

Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

It’s had tacks in it,

And splinters,

And boards torn up,

And places with no carpet on the floor–

Bare.

But all the time

I’se been a-climbin’ on,

And reachin’ landin’s

And turnin’ corners,

And sometimes goin’ in the dark

Where there ain’t been no light.

So, boy, don’t you turn back.

Don’t you set down on the steps

‘cause you finds it’s kinder hard.

Don’t you fall now–

For I’se still goin’ honey,

I’se still climbin’
And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

* * *


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Song for a Banjo Dance (by Langston Hughes)

Langston Hughes in 1925
Song for a Banjo Dance
by Langston Hughes
[first published in the October 1922 issue of Crisis]

Shake your brown feet, honey,

Shake your brown feet, chile,

Shake your brown feet, honey,

Shake ‘em swift and wil’–

    Get way back, honey,

    Do that rockin’ step.

    Slide on over darling,

        Now! Come out

        With your left.

Shake your brown feet, honey,

Shake ‘em, honey chile.

 

Sun’s going down this evening–

Might never rise no mo’.

The sun’s going down this very night–

Might never rise no mo’–

So dance with swift feet, honey,

    (The banjo’s sobbing low)

Dance with swift feet, honey–

    Might never dance no mo’.

 

Shake your brown feet, Liza,

Shake ‘em, Liza, chile,

Shake your brown feet , Liza,

    (The music’s soft and wil’)

Shake your brown feet, Liza,

    (The banjo’s sobbing low)

The sun’s going down this very night–
Might never rise no mo’.

* * *


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Beggar Boy (by Langston Hughes)

Langston Hughes in 1925
Beggar Boy
by Langston Hughes
[first published in the September 1922 issue of Crisis]

What is there within this beggar lad
That I can neither hear nor feel nor see,
That I can neither know nor understand
And still it calls to me?

Is not he but a shadow in the sun–
A bit of clay, brown, ugly, given life?
And yet he plays upon his flute a wild free tune
As if Fate had not bled him with her knife!

* * *


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After Many Springs (by Langston Hughes)

Langston Hughes in 1925
After Many Springs
by Langston Hughes
[first published in the August 1922 issue of Crisis]

Now,
In June,
When the night is a vast softness
Filled with blue stars,
And broken shafts of moon-glimmer
Fall upon the earth,
Am I too old to see the fairies dance?
I cannot find them any more.

* * *


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Danse Africaine (by Langston Hughes)

Langston Hughes in 1925
Danse Africaine
by Langston Hughes
[first published in the August 1922 issue of Crisis]

The low beating of the tom-toms,
The slow beating of the tom-toms, 
        Low … slow 
        Slow … low–
        Stirs your blood. 
                Dance!
A night-veiled girl 
        Whirls softly into a 
        Circle of light. 
        Whirls softly… slowly,
Like a wisp of smoke around the fire–
        And the tom-toms beat, 
        And the tom-toms beat,
And the low beating of the tom-toms 
        Stirs your blood.

* * *


To find more by Langston Hughes in the Crisis Chronicles Online Library, click here.

Even more is available in these volumes:

     

Laughers (by Langston Hughes)

Langston Hughes in 1925
Laughers
by Langston Hughes
[first published as “My People” in the June 1922 issue of Crisis]

Dream-singers,
Story-tellers,
Dancers,
Loud laughers in the hands of Fate–
     My people.
Dish-washers,
Elevator-boys,
Ladies’ maids,
Crap-shooters,
Cooks,
Waiters,
Jazzers,
Nurses of babies,
Loaders of ships,
Rounders,
Number writers,
Comedians in vaudeville
And band-men in circuses–
Dream-singers all,–
      My people.
Story-tellers all,–
My people.
      Dancers-
God!  What dancers!
    Singers–
God!  What singers!
Singers and dancers
Dancers and laughers.
    Laughers?
Yes, laughers . . . laughers . . . laughers–
Loud-mouthed laughers in the hands
    Of Fate.

* * *


To find more by Langston Hughes in the Crisis Chronicles Online Library, click here.

Even more is available in these volumes:

     

To a Dead Friend (by Langston Hughes)

Langston Hughes in 1925
To a Dead Friend
by Langston Hughes
[first published in the May 1922 issue of Crisis]

The moon still sends its mellow light
        Through the purple blackness of the night;
The morning star is palely bright 
                Before the dawn.

The sun still shines just as before;
The rose still grows beside my door,
                But you have gone.

The sky is blue and the robin sings;
The butterflies dance on rainbow wings
                Though I am sad.

In all the earth no joy can be;
Happiness comes no more to me,
                For you are dead.

 

* * *


To find more by Langston Hughes in the Crisis Chronicles Online Library, click here.

Even more is available in these volumes:

     

The South (by Langston Hughes)

Langston Hughes in 1925
The South
by Langston Hughes
[first published in the June 1922 issue of Crisis]

The lazy, laughing South
With blood on its mouth.
The sunny-faced South,
    Beast-strong,
    Idiot-brained.
The child-minded South
Scratching in the dead fire’s ashes
For a Negro’s bones.
    Cotton and the moon,
    Warmth, earth, warmth,
    The sky, the sun, the stars,
    The magnolia-scented South.
Beautiful, like a woman,
Seductive as a dark-eyed whore,
    Passionate, cruel,
    Honey-lipped, syphilitic–
    That is the South.
And I, who am black, would love her
But she spits in my face.
And I, who am black,
Would give her many rare gifts
But she turns her back upon me.
    So now I seek the North–
    The cold-faced North,
    For she, they say,
    Is a kinder mistress,
And in her house my children
May escape the spell of the South.

 

* * *


To find more by Langston Hughes in the Crisis Chronicles Online Library, click here.

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My Loves (by Langston Hughes)

Langston Hughes in 1925
My Loves
by Langston Hughes
[first published in the May 1922 issue of Crisis]

I love to see the big white moon,
    A-shining in the sky;
I love to see the little stars,
    When the shadow clouds go by.

I love the rain drops falling
    On my roof-top in the night;
I love the soft wind’s sighing,
    Before the dawn’s gray light.

I love the deepness of the blue,
    In my Lord’s heaven above;
But better than all these things I think,
    I love my lady love. 

* * *


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New Moon (by Langston Hughes)

Langston Hughes in 1925
New Moon
by Langston Hughes
[first published in the March 1922 issue of Crisis]

There’s a new young moon
Riding the hills tonight.

There’s a sprightly young moon
Exploring the clouds.

There’s a half-shy young moon
Veiling her face like a virgin
Waiting for a lover. 

* * *


To find more by Langston Hughes in the Crisis Chronicles Online Library, click here.

Even more is available in these volumes: