Claude McKay (Клод Маккей)

O Word I Love to Sing


O word I love to sing! thou art too tender 
For all the passions agitating me; 
For all my bitterness thou art too tender, 
I cannot pour my red soul into thee. 

O haunting melody! thou art too slender, 
Too fragile like a globe of crystal glass; 
For all my stormy thoughts thou art too slender, 
The burden from my bosom will not pass. 

O tender word! O melody so slender! 
O tears of passion saturate with brine, 
O words, unwilling words, ye can not render 
My hatred for the foe of me and mine.

Claude McKay’s other poems:

  1. One Year After
  2. The Wild Goat
  3. To a Poet
  4. Poetry
  5. The Castaways

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