For A Cynic
Birth is a crime
All men commit;
Life gives them time
To atone for it;
Death ends the rhyme
As the price for it.
This poem is in the public domain.
(For Carl Van Vechten)
What is Africa to me:
Copper sun or scarlet sea,
Jungle star or jungle track,
Strong bronzed men, or regal black
Women from whose loins I sprang
When the birds of Eden sang?
One three centuries removed
From the scenes his fathers loved,
For Donald Duff
Locked arm in arm they cross the way,
The black boy and the white,
The golden splendor of the day,
The sable pride of night.