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african american poetry

ich hörte den Wind aller Tag
ich liebe mein Leben, aber nicht zu gut
tun Sie die Jungen und Mädchen gehen noch
wenn die Stunden des Tages numeriert werden
unter den Bergen wandered ich
ich war eine Göttin, ere der Marmor mich fand
ich liebe meine Stunde des Winds und des Lichtes
im Bereich
Hinausschieben, vainly kämpfend
Himmel, die sie waren, ashen und nĂĽchtern
wenn Nacht entlang den StraĂźen der Stadt treibt
und mit dem Summenvogel

 



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