I want to see the slim palm-trees, Pulling at the clouds With little pointed fingers . . . I want to see lithe Negro girls, Etched dark against the sky While sunset lingers. I want to hear the silent sands, Singing to the moon Before the Sphinx-still face . . . I want to hear the chanting Around a heathen fire Of a strange black race. I want to breathe the Lotus flow'r, Sighing to the stars With tendrils drinking at the Nile . . . I want to feel the surging Of my sad people's soul Hidden by a minstrel-smile. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JACOB GODBEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE DIORAMA PAINTER AT THE MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY by KAREN SWENSON THE SHELL TO THE PEARL by LOUIS UNTERMEYER HIS OWNE EPITAPH by FRANCOIS VILLON |