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 For the dim regions whence my fathers came 
My spirit, bondaged by the body, longs.
Words felt, but never heard, my lips would frame; My soul would sing forgotten jungle songs.
I would go back to darkness and to peace, But the great western world holds me in fee, And I may never hope for full release While to its alien gods I bend my knee.
Something in me is lost, forever lost, Some vital thing has gone out of my heart, And I must walk the way of life a ghost Among the sons of earth, a thing apart; For I was born, far from my native clime, Under the white man's menace, out of time.

by Claude McKay
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