The Weary Blues
Droning a drowsy syncopated tune,
Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon,
......I heard a Negro play.
Down on Lenox Avenue the other night
By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light
......He did a lazy sway . . .
......He did a lazy sway . . .
To the tune o’ those Weary Blues.
With his ebony hands on each ivory key
He made that poor piano moan with melody.
......O Blues!
Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool
He played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool.
......Sweet Blues!
Coming from a black man’s soul.
......O Blues!
In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone
I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moan—
......“Ain’t got nobody in all this world,
......Ain’t got nobody but ma self.
......I’s gwine to quit ma frownin’
......And put ma troubles on the shelf.”
Thump, thump, thump, went his foot on the floor.
He played a few chords then he sang some more—
......“I got the Weary Blues
......And I can’t be satisfied.
......Got the Weary Blues
......And can’t be satisfied—
......I ain’t happy no mo’
......And I wish that I had died.”
And far into the night he crooned that tune.
The stars went out and so did the moon.
The singer stopped playing and went to bed
While the Weary Blues echoed through his head.
He slept like a rock or a man that’s dead.
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Po’ Boy Blues
When I was home de
Sunshine seemed like gold.
When I was home de
Sunshine seemed like gold.
Since I come up North de
Whole damn world’s turned cold.
I was a good boy,
Never done no wrong.
Yes, I was a good boy,
Never done no wrong,
But this world is weary
An’ de road is hard an’ long.
I fell in love with
A gal I thought was kind.
Fell in love with
A gal I thought was kind.
She made me lose ma money
An’ almost lose ma mind.
Weary, weary,
Weary early in de morn.
Weary, weary,
Early, early in de morn.
I’s so weary
I wish I’d never been born.
Langston Hughes portrait
from Academy of American Poets |