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The Weary Blues
par
Langston Hughes
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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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