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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=532739" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Congo: A Study of the Negro Race</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I. THEIR BASIC SAVAGERY</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room,<br>Barrel-house kings, with feet unstable,<br>Sagged and reeled and pounded on the table, <br>A deep rolling bass.<br>Pounded on the table,<br>Beat an empty barrel with the handle of a broom,<br>Hard as they were able,<br>Boom, boom, BOOM,<br>With a silk umbrella and the handle of a broom,<br>Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, BOOM.<br>THEN I had religion, THEN I had a vision.<br>I could not turn from their revel in derision.<br>THEN I SAW THE CONGO, CREEPING THROUGH THE BLACK,<br>More deliberate. Solemnly chanted.<br>CUTTING THROUGH THE FOREST WITH A GOLDEN TRACK.<br>Then along that riverbank<br>A thousand miles<br>Tattooed cannibals danced in files;<br>Then I heard the boom of the blood-lust song<br>And a thigh-bone beating on a tin-pan gong.<br>A rapidly piling climax of speed & racket.<br>And &quot;BLOOD&quot; screamed the whistles and the fifes of the warriors,<br>&quot;BLOOD&quot; screamed the skull-faced, lean witch-doctors,<br>&quot;Whirl ye the deadly voo-doo rattle,<br>Harry the uplands,<br>Steal all the cattle,<br>Rattle-rattle, rattle-rattle,<br>Bing.<br>Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, BOOM,&quot;<br>A roaring, epic, rag-time tune<br>With a philosophic pause.<br>From the mouth of the Congo <br>To the Mountains of the Moon.<br>Death is an Elephant,<br>Torch-eyed and horrible,<br>Shrilly and with a heavily accented metre.<br>Foam-flanked and terrible.<br>BOOM, steal the pygmies,<br>BOOM, kill the Arabs, <br>BOOM, kill the white men,<br>HOO, HOO, HOO.<br>Listen to the yell of Leopold's ghost<br>Like the wind in the chimney.<br>Burning in Hell for his hand-maimed host.<br>Hear how the demons chuckle and yell<br>Cutting his hands off, down in Hell.<br>Listen to the creepy proclamation,<br>Blown through the lairs of the forest-nation,<br>Blown past the white-ants' hill of clay,<br>Blown past the marsh where the butterflies play: --<br>&quot;Be careful what you do,<br>Or Mumbo-Jumbo, God of the Congo,<br>All the &quot;O&quot; sounds very golden. Heavy accents very heavy. Light accents very light. Last line whispered.<br>And all of the other<br>Gods of the Congo,<br>Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you,<br>Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you,<br>Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>II. THEIR IRREPRESSIBLE HIGH SPIRITS</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Wild crap-shooters with a whoop and a call<br>Rather shrill and high.<br>Danced the juba in their gambling-hall<br>And laughed fit to kill, and shook the town,<br>And guyed the policemen and laughed them down<br>With a boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, BOOM.<br>THEN I SAW THE CONGO, CREEPING THROUGH THE BLACK,<br>Read exactly as in first section.<br>CUTTING THROUGH THE FOREST WITH A GOLDEN TRACK.<br>A negro fairyland swung into view,<br>Lay emphasis on the delicate ideas. Keep as light-footed as possible.<br>A minstrel river<br>Where dreams come true.<br>The ebony palace soared on high<br>Through the blossoming trees to the evening sky.<br>The inlaid porches and casements shone<br>With gold and ivory and elephant-bone.<br>And the black crowd laughed till their sides were sore<br>At the baboon butler in the agate door,<br>And the well-known tunes of the parrot band<br>That trilled on the bushes of that magic land.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A troupe of skull-faced witch-men came<br>With pomposity.<br>Through the agate doorway in suits of flame,<br>Yea, long-tailed coats with a gold-leaf crust<br>And hats that were covered with diamond-dust.<br>And the crowd in the court gave a whoop and a call<br>And danced the juba from wall to wall.<br>But the witch-men suddenly stilled the throng<br>With a great deliberation & ghostliness.<br>With a stern cold glare, and a stern old song: --<br>&quot;Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you.&quot; ...<br>Just then from the doorway, as fat as shotes,<br>With overwhelming assurance, good cheer, and pomp.<br>Came the cake-walk princes in their long red coats,<br>Canes with a brilliant lacquer shine,<br>And tall silk hats that were red as wine.<br>And they pranced with their butterfly partners there,<br>With growing speed and sharply marked dance-rhythm<br>Coal-black maidens with pearls in their hair,<br>Knee-skirts trimmed with the jassamine sweet,<br>And bells on their ankles and little black-feet.<br>And the couples railed at the chant and the frown<br>Of the witch-men lean, and laughed them down.<br>(O rare was the revel, and well worth while<br>That made those glowering witch-men smile.)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The cake-walk royalty then began<br>To walk for a cake that was tall as a man<br>To the tune of &quot;Boomlay, boomlay, BOOM,&quot;<br>While the witch-men laughed, with a sinister air,<br>With a touch of negro dialect, and as rapidly as possible toward the end.<br>And sang with the scalawags prancing there: --<br>&quot;Walk with care, walk with care,<br>Or Mumbo-Jumbo, God of the Congo,<br>And all the other <br>Gods of the Congo,<br>Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you.<br>Beware, beware, walk with care,<br>Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, boom. <br>Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, boom. <br>Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, boom. <br>Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, <br>BOOM.&quot;<br>Oh rare was the revel, and well worth while<br>Slow philosophic calm.<br>That made those glowering witch-men smile.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>III. THE HOPE OF THEIR RELIGION</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A good old negro in the slums of the town<br>Heavy bass. With a literal imitation of camp-meeting racket, and trance.<br>Preached at a sister for her velvet gown.<br>Howled at a brother for his low-down ways,<br>His prowling, guzzling, sneak-thief days.<br>Beat on the Bible till he wore it out<br>Starting the jubilee revival shout.<br>And some had visions, as they stood on chairs,<br>And sang of Jacob, and the golden stairs,<br>And they all repented, a thousand strong<br>From their stupor and savagery and sin and wrong<br>And slammed with their hymn books till they shook the room<br>With &quot;glory, glory, glory,&quot;<br>And &quot;Boom, boom, BOOM.&quot;<br>THEN I SAW THE CONGO, CREEPING THROUGH THE BLACK,<br>Exactly as in the first section. Begin with terror and power, end with joy.<br>CUTTING THROUGH THE FOREST WITH A GOLDEN TRACK.<br>And the gray sky opened like a new-rent veil<br>And showed the Apostles with their coats of mail.<br>In bright white steel they were seated round<br>And their fire-eyes watched where the Congo wound.<br>And the twelve Apostles, from their thrones on high<br>Thrilled all the forest with their heavenly cry: --<br>&quot;Mumbo-Jumbo will die in the jungle;<br>Sung to the tune of &quot;Hark, ten thousand harps and voices.&quot;<br>Never again will he hoo-doo you,<br>Never again will he hoo-doo you.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then along that river, a thousand miles<br>With growing deliberation and joy.<br>The vine-snared trees fell down in files.<br>Pioneer angels cleared the way<br>For a Congo paradise, for babes at play,<br>For sacred capitals, for temples clean.<br>Gone were the skull-faced witch-men lean.<br>There, where the wild ghost-gods had wailed<br>In a rather high key -- as delicately as possible.<br>A million boats of the angels sailed<br>With oars of silver, and prows of blue<br>And silken pennants that the sun shone through.<br>'Twas a land transfigured, 'twas a new creation.<br>Oh, a singing wind swept the negro nation<br>And on through the backwoods clearing flew: --<br>&quot;Mumbo-Jumbo is dead in the jungle.<br>To the tune of &quot;Hark, ten thousand harps and voices.&quot;<br>Never again will he hoo-doo you.<br>Never again will he hoo-doo you.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Redeemed were the forests, the beasts and the men,<br>And only the vulture dared again<br>By the far, lone mountains of the moon<br>To cry, in the silence, the Congo tune: --<br>&quot;Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you,<br>Dying down into a penetrating, terrified whisper.<br>&quot;Mumbo-Jumbo will hoo-doo you.<br>Mumbo ... Jumbo ... will ... hoo-doo ... you.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Vachel+Lindsay">Vachel Lindsay</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=532739" data-title="The Congo: A Study of the Negro Race de Vachel Lindsay" data-description="I. THEIR BASIC SAVAGERY

Fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room,
Barrel-house kings, with feet unstable,
Sagged and reeled and pounded on the table, 
A deep rolling bass.
Pounded on the table,
Beat an empty barrel with the handle of a broom,
Hard a..."></div>
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