“New York! I say New York, let black blood flow into your blood. Let it wash the rust from your steel joints, like an oil of life Let it give your bridges the curve of hips and supple vines. Now the ancient age returns, unity is restored, The recociliation of the Lion and Bull and Tree Idea links to action, the ear to the heart, sign to meaning. See your rivers stirring with musk alligators And sea cows with mirage eyes. No need to invent the Sirens. Just open your eyes to the April rainbow And your eyes, especially your ears, to God Who in one burst of saxophone laughter Created heaven and earth in six days, And on the seventh slept a deep Negro sleep.” PoetryNew York CityAfrica Book:The Collected Poetry Source: The Collected Poetry
“For who else would teach rhythm to the world that has died of machines and cannons? For who else should ejaculate the cry of joy, that arouses the dead and the wise in a new dawn? Say, who else could return the memory of life to man with a torn hope?… They call us men of death. But we are the men of the dance whose feet only gain power when they beat the hard soil” JoyMusicDanceRhythmAfricaBlacknessBlack Joy Book:Chants d'ombre suivi de Hosties noires Source: Chants d'ombre suivi de Hosties noires