Black history month is upon us. I have been thinking about the written word a lot lately and how words might be our most prized possessions when used appropriately. Langston Hughes (1902 - 1967) was an author and poet who used words to invoke, incite and disseminate wisdom and knowledge. I would like to share one of my favorite pieces written by Mr. Hughes.Mother To Son
Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So, boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps.
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now—
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
Langston Hughes
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So, boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps.
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now—
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
Langston Hughes
5 comments:
This is one of my favorite poems by Langston Hughes as well...
So musical, so touching...so real.
I like "Mother to Son" but I LOVE Langston's, "The Negro Speaks of Rivers." (I hope you don't mind my sharing)
"I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln went down to New Orleans and I've seen its muddy bosom turn all golden in the sunset.
I've known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.
My soul as grown deep like the rivers.
1922, Langston Hughes
what a renaissance man
Hey Marvalus, It is beautiful isn't it.
Lori, I am a fan of all his work. Thanks for sharing "The Negro Speaks of Rivers". He composed some wonderful poetry and short stories. I remember a song off of Gil Scott-Heron's "Secrets" album that was adapted from one of Mr. Hughes short stories, the song was entitled "Cane".
Bombchell, look up renaissance man in the dictionary and you will find a portrait of Langston Hughes!
That's a powerful piece by one of the greats! Thanks for posting it.
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