from Creative Commons.org |
The Little Black Boy
About the poem:
In this poem the little black boy’s innocence is changed by the experience of his mother. His mother speaks to him in this poem about the problems he will face in life as a result of the color of his skin. The poem has an underlying tone of sadness by the way in which the boy begins to understand his social constraints because he is black, and only in death will he be seen as equal to the English boy. The boy’s skin tone is symbolic of the social constraints he will face in life and how he may over come them.He is more than what is physically observable, meaning he is more than his racial class. The sun is also a paralling symbol here. The sun is more than its physical characteristics–an embodiment of God through nature. In nature lies the metaphysical force, which connects us all and blurs the boundaries between black and white. Things in life are not just an observable black and white; the physical characteristics of people shield their inner souls.
The Little Black Boy
My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but O! my soul is white;
White as an angel is the English child,
But I am black as if bereav’d of light.
My mother taught me underneath a tree,And, sitting down before the heat of day,
She took me on her lap and kissed me,
And pointing to the east began to say:
“Look on the rising sun: there God does live,
And gives his light, and gives his heat away;
And flowers and trees and beasts and men recieve
Comfort in morning, joy in the noonday.
“And we are put on earth a little space,
That we may learn to bear the beams of love;
And these black bodies and this sunburnt face
Is but a cloud, and like a shady grove.
“For when our souls have learn’d the heat to bear,
The cloud will vanish; we shall hear his voice,
Saying: ‘Come out from the grove, my love & care,
And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice.'”
Thus did my mother say, and kissed me;
And thus I say to little English boy.
When I from black and he from white cloud free,
And round the tent of God like lambs we joy,
I’ll shade him from the heat, till he can bear
To lean in joy upon our father’s knee;
And then I’ll stand and stroke his silver hair,
And be like him, and he will then love me.