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Countee Cullen (30 May 1903 – 9 January 1946 / New York)
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Poems by Countee Cullen : 21 / 28
The Wise
Dead men are wisest, for they know
How far the roots of flowers go,
How long a seed must rot to grow.
Dead men alone bear frost and rain
On throbless heart and heatless brain,
And feel no stir of joy or pain.
Dead men alone are satiate;
They sleep and dream and have no weight,
To curb their rest, of love or hate.
Strange, men should flee their company,
Or think me strange who long to be
Wrapped in their cool immunity.
Countee Cullen
Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003
Read poems about / on: hate, alone, rain, sleep, dream, joy, pain, heart, love, flower
Poems by Countee Cullen : 21 / 28
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The one thing we dread, is the one thing that is inevitable, accept it, and you know peace.
This poem has more wisdom condensed in it than the Mahabharata.
Seems to me poet doesn't believe that one can learn the art of bearing pain and pleasure or life's dualities while alive as to think that only dead can understand this and be wise.
Countee Cullen is envious of the dead. Cullen dealt with pain of losing love ones at an early age. Dead man are the wisest because the dead is immune to human emotions that Cullen felt.