Still I Rise
By Maya Angelou © 1978
You may
write me down in history
With your
bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod
me in the very dirt
But still,
like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my
sassiness upset you?
Why are you
beset with gloom?
‘Cause I
walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in
my living room.
Just like
moons and like suns,
With the
certainty of tides,
Just like
hopes springing high,
Still I’ll
rise.
Did you want
to see me broken?
Bowed head
and lowered eyes?
Shoulders
falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by
my soulful cries?
Does my
haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you
take it awful hard
‘Cause I
laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in
my own backyard.
You may
shoot me with your words,
You may cut
me with your eyes,
You may kill
me with your hatefulness,
But still,
like air, I’ll rise.
Does my
sexiness upset you?
Does it come
as a surprise
That I dance
like I’ve got diamonds
At the
meeting of my thighs?
Out of the
huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a
past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black
ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and
swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving
behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a
daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the
gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the
dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
No comments:
Post a Comment