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User Rating:
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6.5
/10
(31 votes)
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For the dim regions whence my fathers came
My spirit, bondaged by the body, longs.
Words felt, but never heard, my lips would frame;
My soul would sing forgotten jungle songs.
I would go back to darkness and to peace,
But the great western world holds me in fee,
And I may never hope for full release
While to its alien gods I bend my knee.
Something in me is lost, forever lost,
Some vital thing has gone out of my heart,
And I must walk the way of life a ghost
Among the sons of earth, a thing apart;
For I was born, far from my native clime,
Under the white man's menace, out of time.
Claude McKay
| Submitted Date |
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Friday, January 03, 2003 |
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Read poems about / on: lost, peace, hope, world, time, heart, life, father, son, song
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