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Let America be America Again
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9.0
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(170
votes)
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Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.
(America never was America to me.)
Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed--
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.
(It never was America to me.)
O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.
(There's never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.")
Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?
I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek--
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.
I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one's own greed!
I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean--
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today--O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.
Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That's made America the land it has become.
O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home--
For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore,
And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa's strand I came
To build a "homeland of the free."
The free?
Who said the free? Not me?
Surely not me? The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we've dreamed
And all the songs we've sung
And all the hopes we've held
And all the flags we've hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay--
Except the dream that's almost dead today.
O, let America be America again--
The land that never has been yet--
And yet must be--the land where every man is free.
The land that's mine--the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME--
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.
Sure, call me any ugly name you choose--
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people's lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!
O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath--
America will be!
Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain--
All, all the stretch of these great green states--
And make America again!
Langston Hughes
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Read poems about / on: america, dream, today, dog, freedom, rape, africa, people, greed, hope, home, dark, faith, strength, power, work, rain, red, green, pain
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Comments about this poem (Let America be America Again
by
Langston Hughes
) |
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comments about this poem (Let America be America Again by
Langston Hughes
)
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Kwesi Atta Sakyi
(5/26/2009 11:00:00 AM) |
Lagston Hughes says it all without a megaphone and without frills. What frankness, zeal, candour and deep feeling for the suffering folks whose dreams, hopes, vision and aspirations lay shattered, stolen and destroyed by a few greedy lot! This powerful message rings ever true today than the time it was written! Was he a seer or prophet? Magnificent stuff! Kwesi Atta Sakyi
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Rus Szkodyn
(3/19/2009 6:43:00 PM) |
I truly look at this poem and think to myself that this continues to happen. People are still being discriminated but it appears to be less likely than in the past. The dream that he speaks of is what every American is after, no matter what race, religion or sex. I have seen discrimination first hand, and let me tell you it is something that nobody should go through. The pain that you will feel is something that you wish your children to never feel. As people keep getting educated I hope that they will also see that discrimination is a horrible thing.
It is funny to think that America is known as the melting pot, but really what kind of melting pot discriminates against its own people. Even today it is known that people discriminate against Hispanics. It is something that should be ashamed of not to be proud of. Who cares if they are illegal, a human being is a human being and nobody has the right to look down upon another human being for doing nothing wrong.
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Marvin Purser
(2/14/2009 5:23:00 PM) |
It's gonna happen, Langston. Abe was on top of it. King pushed it. And Obama will
affirm it. The little slave in the balconies of slaveowners churches years ago prayed for it.
Yes! Langston. Yes! Martin. Yes! Obama. Yes! America. Yes! One Family of God. Every man, woman and child, 'Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight! ' With 'no hands, but ours to do His will.' 'jOn earth, as it is in heaven! ' Amen!
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Tynice Owens
(8/30/2008 5:47:00 PM) |
I find his words to still be in the struggles of today. Let America be America Again, ...yes, that is what we all long and strive for every day. These words speak to me in a perfect time, place and year. These words cry out for hope, for a better tomorrow, for an America to be what it once was, is, and still can be. The same as way Obama sees it, it's the same way Langston wrote it.
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Matt Soriano
(12/14/2007 10:34:00 AM) |
to bad your dead i would have loved to talk to you about so much and so little.
but when i'm dead i will then be able to see my itell.
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Chris Oxner
(11/8/2007 11:19:00 AM) |
As it still is in America, his yearning then is his yearning now. Timeless. But maybe there will be a future time when people read this beautiful poem and see it communicating a yearning that has become a relic of an bygone era.
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Jennifer Jones
(3/3/2006 3:41:00 PM) |
This poem speaks the truth in a song of words.It gives you insight to how his life was during his life. I love this poem!
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