America
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.
~~
Claude McKay (1889-1948)
from Harlem Shadows, 1922
[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]
Claude McKay biography
"America" read by Tubyez Cropper. Courtesy Beinecke Library at Yale.
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