Lost illusion
After a long silence
I meant to shout:
"Give me my voice
Give it back; let it attack."
I read a poem that cannot
Cannot get by it without a
Shout…
Must spread it as do the trees
Spreading their roots and branches.
"Oh, for the veils, for the veils of my youth
Veils that hung low o'er the blaze of the truth! "
A ‘Bravo' to Georgia Douglas Johnson,
And to "The Book of American Negro Poetry, "
For "Lost Illusions"
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Outstanding! To be moved by poetry is a blessing of the utmost joy, very good!