Few questions bore into Willie's mind,
But one was the question of questions.
Once when this question crowded Willie's mind,
The brush fell out of Willie's hands.
And it happened that just then
came to visit
the cigar king, Henry Clay,
Whiter than flocks or white clouds,
One of the most magnificent
of the sugar kings, Mr. Bragg.
I beg your pardon, Mr. Bragg,
But why's your white, white sugar
ground by black, black Negroes?
A black cigar don't go with your moustach---
That's for a Negro with a white moustach!
And since you like coffee with sugar,
Why don't you grind the sugar yourself?
The Negro sniffed with his bloody nose.
He picked up his broom holding his hand to his jaw.
How could he know
that such questions
Such questions...
...He should address
the Comintern at Moscow?
LENIN
Workers of all countries
and the oppressed peoples of the world
UNITE!
THE END
Trans. based on Langston Hughes, ass. by Lydia Filatova (1933), ed. Niffiwan