Harlem [dream Deferred]

Poem By Langston Hughes

I love to play the mandolin

With a hare hailing from Berlin

His fingers are too small

He always drops the ball

I rubbed a lamp, found no djinn

Λατρεύω να παίζω μαντολίνο

Μ'ένα λαγό απ'το Βερολίνο

Έχει δάχτυλα μικρά πολύ

Πάντοτε χάνει τη βολή

Χωρίς τζίνι το λυχνάρι στο κομοδίνο

Comments about Harlem [dream Deferred]

His fingers are too small He always drops the ball. sensing a sense in non sense. a fine poem dear Father. tony
A clever limerick, my friend. Love the last line! 10+

3,3 out of 5
95 total ratings

Other poems of HUGHES


Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.

As I Grew Older

It was a long time ago.
I have almost forgotten my dream.
But it was there then,
In front of me,

Mother To Son

Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,

Dream Deferred

What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--


My old man's a white old man
And my old mother's black.
If ever I cursed my white old man
I take my curses back.

I, Too

I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen