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With two white roses on her breasts,
White candles at head and feet,
Dark Madonna of the grave she rests;
Lord Death has found her sweet.
Her mother pawned her wedding ring
To lay her out in white;
She'd be so proud she'd dance and sing
to see herself tonight.
Countée Cullen
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Monday, October 06, 2003 |
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Read poems about / on: wedding, dance, mother, dark, death, girl, rose
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Comments about this poem (A Brown Girl Dead
by
Countée Cullen
) |
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Andrea Ribeiro (11/29/2010 6:30:00 AM)
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It is really sad how black women could be so mistreated along the world history...
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is it Poetry (7/4/2009 2:43:00 PM)
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it is an excellent tribute to she whom walks in flames and hides a soul of white..iip
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Kainwo Moses (6/1/2009 6:45:00 PM)
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Many indeed wait for the occasion of death to express their love. This is so true of my Africa. Cullen has done a great job here but I wonder how many will see this poem...
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Milena Kubicka (7/10/2008 7:39:00 AM)
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Why some of us care more of the dead than of the living?
Flowers at the funeral? Yes. A new dress? Yes.
But we often forget to offer a living preson his/her anniversary gift or flower, not to mention the no-occasion ones.
Isn't that so, that we tend to appreciate people only when it's too late...?
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