Occupation: Poet Birth: June 26, 1913 Death: April 17, 2008
Out of the sky, the birds, the parrots, the bells, silk, cloth, and drums, out of Sundays dancing, children's words and love words, out of love for t….
And let me die suddenly, to be born again in the revelation of beauty....And the revelation of beauty is the wisdom of the ancestors..
A man screaming is not a dancing bear. Life is not a spectacle..
Beware, my body and my soul, beware above all of crossing your arms and assuming the sterile attitude of the spectator, for life is not a spectacle, ….
There's room for everyone at the rendezvous of victory..
I have a different idea of a universal. It is of a universal rich with all that is particular, rich with all the particulars there are, the deepening….
Africa, help me to go home, carry me like an aged child in your arms. Undress me and wash me. Strip me of all of these garments, strip me as a man st….
It is no use painting the foot of the tree white, the strength of the bark cries out from beneath the paint..
I am talking about societies drained of their essence, cultures trampled underfoot, institutions undermined, lands confiscated, religions smashed, ma….
Reason, I sacrifice you to the evening breeze..
The weakness of most men they do not know how to become a stone or tree..
In the whole world no poor devil is lynched, no wretch is tortured, in whom I too am not degraded and murdered..
Poetic knowledge is born in the great silence of scientific knowledge..
I would rediscover the secret of great communications and great combustions. I would say storm. I would say river. I would say tornado. I would say l….
Culture is everything. Culture is the way we dress, the way we carry our heads, the way we walk, the way we tie our ties - it is not only the fact of….
When I turn on my radio, when I hear that Negroes have been lynched in America, I say that we have been lied to: Hitler is not dead; when I turn on m….
Communism has served us ill in having us swap a living brotherhood for what looks to have the features of the coldest of all chill abstractions..