Simon the Cyrenian Speaks
He never spoke a word to me,
And yet He called my name;
He never gave a sign to me,
And yet I knew and came.
At first I said, "I will not bear
His cross upon my back;
He only seeks to place it there
Because my skin is black."
But He was dying for a dream,
And He was very meek,
And in His eyes there shone a gleam
Men journey far to seek.
It was Himself my pity bought;
I did for Christ alone
What all of Rome could not have wrought
With bruise of lash or stone.
Countee Cullen's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Simon the Cyrenian Speaks by Countee Cullen )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- i'll churn the butter while you fish, Mandolyn Davidson
- THE FOOLISH ONES, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- My Sweet Little Kid, Ramesh Shrestha
- Heavy morning, Robo Cat
- good-morning babe, don't say good-night, Mandolyn Davidson
- I Am But a Small Voice, F. J. Thomas
- Blueberry Muffins, Sandra Feldman
- ode to enmity, Shanika marini Paul
- hair poem, lee fones
- Midnight, binod bastola