 |
| Redemption Song Statue, Kingston |
BY CLAUDE MCKAY
Although she feeds me bread of bitterness,
And sinks into my throat her tiger’s tooth,
Stealing my breath of life, I will confess
I love this cultured hell that tests my youth.
Her vigor flows like tides into my blood,
Giving me strength erect against her hate,
Her bigness sweeps my being like a flood.
Yet, as a rebel fronts a king in state,
I stand within her walls with not a shred
Of terror, malice, not a word of jeer.
Darkly I gaze into the days ahead,
And see her might and granite wonders there,
Beneath the touch of Time’s unerring hand,
Like priceless treasures sinking in the sand.
- from McKay's (1889~1948) Liberator (1921). He was a Jamaican-American poet.
"The truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. You just got to find the ones worth suffering for." - Bob Marley
CHILD DUB POET
It rough but we don’t complain (fuss)
Life down in Jamaica (yard) is tough, it’s rough, but we don’t complain (fuss)
Days upon days the children (pickney) don’t eat, there out on the street, some of them are sleeping on the cold concrete.
Life down in Jamaica (yard) is tough, it’s rough, but we don’t complain (fuss)
Naked Body and empty stomach, deep collar bones and enlarged stomachs, depression show on their faces.
My JAH, what a disgrace.
No comments:
Post a Comment