W'en de banjos wuz a-ringin', An' de darkies wuz a-singin', Oh, wuzen dem de good times sho! All de ole folks would be chattin',…
James Weldon Johnson (June 17, 1871 – June 26, 1938) was an American author, politician, diplomat, critic, journalist, poet, anthologist, educator, lawyer, songwriter, and early civil rights activist. Johnson is remembered best for his leadership within the NAACP, as well as for his writing, which includes novels, poems, and collections of folklore. He was also one of the first African-American professors at New York University. Later in life he was a professor of creative literature and writing at Fisk University. Johnson was born in Jacksonville, Florida, the son of Helen Louise Dillet and James Johnson. His brother was the composer John Rosamond Johnson. Johnson was first educated by his mother (a musician and a public school teacher—the first female, black teacher in Florida at a grammar school) and then at Edwin M. Stanton School. His mother imparted to him her considerable love and knowledge of English literature and the European tradition in music. At the age of 16 he enrolled at Atlanta University, from which he graduated in 1894. In addition to his bachelor's degree, he also completed some graduate coursework there. The achievement of his father, headwaiter at the St. James Hotel, a luxury establishment built when Jacksonville was one of Florida's first winter havens, gave young James the wherewithal and the self-confidence to pursue a professional career. Molded by the classical education for which Atlanta University was best known, Johnson regarded his academic training as a trust given him in the expectation that he would dedicate his resources to black people. Johnson was also a prominent member of Phi Beta Sigma fraternity. He served in several public capacities over the next 40 years, working in education, the diplomatic corps, civil rights activism, literature, poetry, and music. In 1904 Johnson went on Theodore Roosevelt's presidential campaign. Theodore Roosevelt appointed Johnson as US consul at Puerto Cabello, Venezuela from 1906–1908 and then Nicaragua from 1909–1913. In 1910, Johnson married Grace Nail while he was a United States Consul in Nicaragua. They had met several years earlier in New York when Johnson was working as a songwriter. A cultured and well-educated New Yorker, Grace Nail Johnson became an accomplished artist in pastels and collaborated with her husband on a screenwriting project.)
- Poetry
- Complete Poems (Penguin Books, 2000)
- The Selected Writings of James Weldon Johnson (Oxford University Press, 1995)
- Saint Peter Relates an Incident of the Resurrection Day (Viking Press, 1930)
- God’s Trombones: Seven Negro Sermons in Verse (Viking Press, 1927)
- Fifty Years and Other Poems (The Cornhill Company, 1917)
- Prose
- Negro Americans, What Now? (Viking Press, 1934)
- Along This Way: The Autobiography of James Weldon Johnson (Viking Press, 1933)
- Black Manhattan (Alfred A. Knopf, 1930)
- The Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man (Sherman, French & Co., 1912)
James Weldon Johnson şiirleri
I love to sit alone, and dream, And dream, and dream; In fancy's boat to softly glide Along some stream…
Around the council-board of Hell, with Satan at their head, The Three Great Scourges of humanity sat. Gaunt Famine, with hollow cheek and voice, arose and spoke,— 'O, Prince, I hav…
Look heah! 'Splain to me de reason Why you said to Squire Lee, Der wuz twelve ole chicken thieves In dis heah town, includin' me.…
Tiny bit of humanity, Blessed with your mother’s face, And cursed with your father’s mind.…
When buffeted and beaten by life's storms, When by the bitter cares of life oppressed, I want no surer haven than your arms, I want no sweeter heaven than your breast.…
I knew not who had wrought with skill so fine What I beheld; nor by what laws of art He had created life and love and heart On canvas, from mere color, curve and line.…
Once der was a meetin' in de wilderness, All de critters of creation dey was dar; Brer Rabbit, Brer 'Possum, Brer Wolf, Brer Fox, King Lion, Mister Terrapin, Mister B'ar.…
See! There he stands; not brave, but with an air Of sullen stupor. Mark him well! Is he Not more like brute than man? Look in his eye! No light is there; none, save the glint that…
Skin as black an' jes as sof' as a velvet dress, Teeth as white as ivory —well dey is I guess. Eyes dat's jes as big an' bright as de evenin' star;…
Are you bowed down in heart? Do you but hear the clashing discords and the din of life? Then come away, come to the peaceful wood, Here bathe your soul in silence. Listen! Now,…
Cuddle down, ma honey, in yo' bed, Go to sleep an' res' yo' little head, Been a-kind o' ailin' all de day? Didn't have no sperit fu' to play?…
I Sunrise in the Tropics…
A silver flash from the sinking sun, Then a shot of crimson across the sky…
(On the Anniversary of Lincoln's Birth) Father, Father Abraham,…
15 / 63 gösteriliyor