To Certain Poem by Langston Hughes
To Certain
You sicken me with lies,
With truthful lies.
And with your pious faces.
And your wide, out-stretched,
mock-welcome, Christian hands.
While underneath
Is dirt and ugliness,
And rotting hearts,
And wild hyenas howling
In you soul's wasteland.
This reminds me of myself when I haven't been to Mass or Confession in a while. I've been the person Hughes is admonishing. I've also been Hughes in this situation when I've needed a friend. One of my favorite poems.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/9/2026 8:36:39 AM # rel_20260806T081513Z_580e7f4
you never had an noodle