LEWIS ALEXANDER
Reading edition
Lewis Alexander was born July 4, 1900, at Washington, D. C. He was educated in the public schools of Washington and at Howard University where he was a member of the Howard Players. He has also studied at the University of Pennsylvania. He was a member of the Ethiopian Art Theatre for the season 1922-1923 playing in Salome and The Comedy of Errors on Broadway. As the result of a recent tour of North and South Carolina he edited in May 1927 the Negro Number of the Carolina Magazine. He has been writing poetry since 1917, specializing in Japanese forms. Two Little Theatre groups in Washington, The Ira Aldridge Players of the Grover Cleveland School and the Randall Community Center Players have been under his direction.
NEGRO WOMAN
The sky hangs heavy tonight Like the hair of a Negro woman. The scars of the moon are curved Like the wrinkles on the brow of a Negro woman. The stars twinkle tonight Like the glaze in a Negro woman’s eyes, Drinking the tears set flowing by an aging hurt Gnawing at her heart. The earth trembles tonight Like the quiver of a Negro woman’s eye-lids cupping tears.
AFRICA
Thou art not dead, although the spoiler’s hand Lies heavy as death upon thee; though the wrath Of its accursed might is in thy path And has usurped thy children of their land; Though yet the scourges of a monstrous band Roam on thy ruined fields, thy trampled lanes, Thy ravaged homes and desolated fanes; Thou art not dead, but sleeping,—Motherland. A mighty country, valorous and free, Thou shalt outlive this terror and this pain; Shall call thy scattered children back to thee, Strong with the memory of their brothers slain; And rise from out thy charnel house to be Thine own immortal, brilliant self again!
TRANSFORMATION
I return the bitterness, Which you gave to me; When I wanted loveliness Tantalant and free. I return the bitterness It is washed by tears; Now it is a loveliness Garnished through the years. I return it loveliness, Having made it so; For I wore the bitterness From it long ago.
THE DARK BROTHER
“Lo, I am black but I am comely too, Black as the night, black as the deep dark caves. I am the scion of a race of slaves Who helped to build a nation strong that you And I may stand within the world’s full view, Fearless and firm as dreadnoughts on rough waves; Holding a banner high whose floating braves The opposition of the tried untrue. Casting an eye of love upon my face, Seeing a newer light within my eyes, A rarer beauty in your brother race Will merge upon your visioning fullwise. Though I am black my heart through love is pure, And you through love my blackness shall endure!”
TANKA I-VIII
I
Could I but retrace The winding stairs fate built me. They fell from my feet. Now I stand on the high round. Down beneath height above depth—
II
Through the eyes of life I looked in at my own heart: A long furrowed field Grown cement waiting for seed Baking in desolation.
III
Drink in moods of joy! Why should the sky be lonely? Neither sun nor moon— How my heart is shy of night Like Autumn’s leaf brown pendants.
IV
Cold against the sky The blue jays cried at dawning. The larks where are they? Heavily upon the air My ears tuned in to listen.
V
So this is the reed? The very pipes for singing— Life plays me new songs. Wistfully from out the dawn The crows broke across the sky!
VI
And now Spring has come Blossoming up my garden. I alone unchanged. Moving in my house of Autumn. One leaf alone saves a tree.
VII
By the pool of life Willows are drooping tonight I can see no stars. What dances in the water? O my clouds dripping with tears.
VIII
Could I hear your voice O but this silence is sweet Words mar all beauty. Turn then into your own heart And pluck the roots from the soil—
JAPANESE HOKKU
O apple blossoms Give me your words of silence, Yes, your charming speech. If you would know me, Do not regard this display; Mingle with my speech. Why sit like the sphinx, Watching the caravan pass? Join in the parade. What if the wind blows? What if the leaves are scattered, Now that they are dead? While trimming the plants I saw some flowers drooping. I am a flower. This is but my robe, His Majesty gave to me. Garments will decay. On the flowering twig, Lo! the robin is singing. It must be spring. Looking up the hill The road was long before me. This road is longer. Death is not cruel From what I have seen of life; Nothing else remains. Life is history. Turn not away from the book. Write on every page! If you had not sung Then what would I imitate, Happy nightingale? Sitting by the pool, I looked in and saw my face. O that I were blind!
DAY AND NIGHT
The day is a Negro Yelling out of breath. The night is a Negro Laughing up to death. The day is a jazz band Blasting loud and wild. The night is a jazz band Moaning Blues songs, child. The day is the sunshine Undressed in the street. The night is the sunshine Dressed from head to feet. I am like a rainbow Arched across the way. Yes, I am a rainbow Being night nor day.