Claude McKay quotes

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The shivering birds beneath the eaves
Have sheltered for the night.
Although she feeds me bread of bitterness,
And sinks into my throat her tiger's tooth,
I have forgotten much, but still remember
The poinsettia's red, blood-red in warm December.
Oh some I know! I have embalmed the days,
Even the sacred moments when we played,
Like men we'll face the murderous, cowardly pack,
Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!
If we must die, O let us nobly die,
So that our precious blood may not be shed
The wine-flushed, bold-eyed boys, and even the girls,
Devoured her with their eager, passionate gaze;
And, hungry for the old, familiar ways,
I turned aside and bowed my head and wept.
Deep in the secret chambers of my heart
I muse my life-long hate, and without flinch
I bear it nobly as I live my part.
The pavement slabs burn loose beneath my feet,
A chafing savage, down the decent street;
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