PROEM

I am a Negro: Black as the night is black, Black like the depths of my Africa. I’ve been a slave: Caesar told me to keep his door-steps clean. I brushed the boots of Washington. I’ve been a worker: Under my hand the pyramids arose. I made mortar for the Woolworth Building. I’ve been a singer: All the way from Africa to Georgia I carried my sorrow songs. I made ragtime. I’ve been a victim: The Belgians cut off my hands in the Congo. They lynch me now in Texas. I am a Negro: Black as the night is black, Black like the depths of my Africa.

Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon, I heard a Negro play. Down on Lenox Avenue the other night By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light He did a lazy sway.... He did a lazy sway.... To the tune o’ those Weary Blues. With his ebony hands on each ivory key He made that poor piano moan with melody. O Blues! Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool He played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool. Sweet Blues! Coming from a black man’s soul. O Blues! In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moan— “Ain’t got nobody in all this world, Ain’t got nobody but ma self. I’s gwine to quit ma frownin’ And put ma troubles on the shelf.” Thump, thump, thump, went his foot on the floor. He played a few chords then he sang some more— “I got the Weary Blues And I can’t be satisfied. Got the Weary Blues And can’t be satisfied— I ain’t happy no mo’ And I wish that I had died.” And far into the night he crooned that tune. The stars went out and so did the moon. The singer stopped playing and went to bed While the Weary Blues echoed through his head. He slept like a rock or a man that’s dead.

Oh, silver tree! Oh, shining rivers of the soul! In a Harlem cabaret Six long-headed jazzers play. A dancing girl whose eyes are bold Lifts high a dress of silken gold. Oh, singing tree! Oh, shining rivers of the soul! Were Eve’s eyes In the first garden Just a bit too bold? Was Cleopatra gorgeous In a gown of gold? Oh, shining tree! Oh, silver rivers of the soul! In a whirling cabaret Six long-headed jazzers play.

“Me an’ ma baby’s Got two mo’ ways, Two mo’ ways to do de buck! Da, da, Da, da, da! Two mo’ ways to do de buck!” Soft light on the tables, Music gay, Brown-skin steppers In a cabaret. White folks, laugh! White folks, pray! “Me an’ ma baby’s Got two mo’ ways, Two mo’ ways to do de buck!”

EVERYBODY Half-pint,— Gin? No, make it LOVES MY BABY corn. You like liquor, don’t you, honey? BUT MY BABY Sure. Kiss me, DON’T LOVE NOBODY daddy. BUT ME. Say! EVERYBODY Yes? WANTS MY BABY I’m your BUT MY BABY sweetie, ain’t I? DON’T WANT NOBODY Sure. BUT Then let’s ME, do it! SWEET ME. Charleston, mamma! !

One who sings “chansons vulgaires” In a Harlem cellar Where the jazz-band plays From dark to dawn Would not understand Should you tell her That she is like a nymph For some wild faun.

Does a jazz-band ever sob? They say a jazz-band’s gay. Yet as the vulgar dancers whirled And the wan night wore away, One said she heard the jazz-band sob When the little dawn was grey.

Strut and wiggle, Shameless gal. Wouldn’t no good fellow Be your pal. Hear dat music.... Jungle night. Hear dat music.... And the moon was white. Sing your Blues song, Pretty baby. You want lovin’ And you don’t mean maybe. Jungle lover.... Night black boy.... Two against the moon And the moon was joy. Strut and wiggle, Shameless Nan. Wouldn’t no good fellow Be your man.

She Who searched for lovers In the night Has gone the quiet way Into the still, Dark land of death Beyond the rim of day. Now like a little lonely waif She walks An endless street And gives her kiss to nothingness. Would God his lips were sweet!

Sleek black boys in a cabaret. Jazz-band, jazz-band,— Play, plAY, PLAY! Tomorrow....who knows? Dance today! White girls’ eyes Call gay black boys. Black boys’ lips Grin jungle joys. Dark brown girls In blond men’s arms. Jazz-band, jazz-band,— Sing Eve’s charms! White ones, brown ones, What do you know About tomorrow Where all paths go? Jazz-boys, jazz-boys,— Play, plAY, PLAY! Tomorrow....is darkness. Joy today!

What jungle tree have you slept under, Midnight dancer of the jazzy hour? What great forest has hung its perfume Like a sweet veil about your bower? What jungle tree have you slept under, Night-dark girl of the swaying hips? What star-white moon has been your mother? To what clean boy have you offered your lips?

Her dark brown face Is like a withered flower On a broken stem. Those kind come cheap in Harlem So they say.

Wine-maiden Of the jazz-tuned night, Lips Sweet as purple dew, Breasts Like the pillows of all sweet dreams, Who crushed The grapes of joy And dripped their juice On you?

Shake your brown feet, honey, Shake your brown feet, chile, Shake your brown feet, honey, Shake ’em swift and wil’— Get way back, honey, Do that low-down step. Walk on over, darling, Now! Come out With your left. Shake your brown feet, honey, Shake ’em, honey chile. Sun’s going down this evening— Might never rise no mo’. The sun’s going down this very night— Might never rise no mo’— So dance with swift feet, honey, (The banjo’s sobbing low) Dance with swift feet, honey— Might never dance no mo’. Shake your brown feet, Liza, Shake ’em, Liza, chile, Shake your brown feet, Liza, (The music’s soft and wil’) Shake your brown feet, Liza, (The banjo’s sobbing low) The sun’s going down this very night— Might never rise no mo’.

Hey! Hey! That’s what the Blues singers say. Singing minor melodies They laugh, Hey! Hey! My man’s done left me, Chile, he’s gone away. My good man’s left me, Babe, he’s gone away. Now the cryin’ blues Haunts me night and day. Hey!...Hey! Weary, Weary, Trouble, pain. Sun’s gonna shine Somewhere Again. I got a railroad ticket, Pack my trunk and ride. Sing ’em, sister! Got a railroad ticket, Pack my trunk and ride. And when I get on the train I’ll cast my blues aside. Laughing, Hey!...Hey! Laugh a loud, Hey! Hey!

The rhythm of life Is a jazz rhythm, Honey. The gods are laughing at us. The broken heart of love, The weary, weary heart of pain,— Overtones, Undertones, To the rumble of street cars, To the swish of rain. Lenox Avenue, Honey. Midnight, And the gods are laughing at us.