She does not know
Her beauty,
She thinks her brown body
Has no glory.
If she could dance
Naked
Under palm trees
And see her image in the river,
She would know.
But there are no palm trees
On the street,
And dish water gives back no images.
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Simple and beautiful, and sometimes I think that is the real way poetry should be. Just the poet, his ability to convey, and the reader.
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Many times we do not see what makes us beautiful to someone else. Too often, images are sold and packaged to us, and we kill ourselves trying to achieve that look (the we is meant as a collective; not everyone follows!). Langston Huges wrote a small poem to Ardella that expresses qualities she missed about herself:
I would liken you
To a night without stars
Were it not for your eyes.
I would liken you
To a sleep without dreams
Were it not for your songs.
I have always enjoyed reading No Images by Cuney; the message is timeless. -
This is a poem with an underlying pain. many of the innocent folk living blow poverty line have no time to know or to find out that how do they look like...if they saw there reflection they will not be able to recognize themselves. If they have any such quality they don’t care because its useless for them.
this is a brilliant poem.
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It is often said that familiarity breeds contempt and that is true of our familiarity with out own traits and features. We see what has always been and not what has developed over time and do not notice when we transform ftom the Ugly Duckling into a swan. Just like on Hans Anderson's tales we need someone to point out that we have become a swan.
This writer has encapsulated all of that in a few short lines.
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