“Silence is a sounding thing, To one who listeGwendolyn B. Bennett American artist is bornns hungrily.” Gwendolyn Bennett
Gwendolyn B. Bennett American artist is born
Gwendolyn B. Bennett was an American artist, writer, and journalist who contributed to “Opportunity”, which chronicled cultural advancements during the Harlem Renaissance.
Gwendolyn B. Bennett – Artist – Associated Links:
- Gwendolyn Bennett | Biography: https://www.biography.com/people/gwendolyn-bennett-40863
- Gwendolyn Bennett Biography | The Black Renaissance in Washington DC: http://029c28c.netsolhost.com/blkren/bios/bennettg.html
- Gwendolyn Bennett | The Black Past Org: http://www.blackpast.org/aah/bennett-gwendolyn-1902-1981
- Gwendolyn Bennett | Academy of American Poets: https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poet/gwendolyn-bennett
- Gwendolyn Bennett | Britannica: https://www.britannica.com/biography/Gwendolyn-Bennett
- Gwendolyn Bennett | My Black History: http://www.myblackhistory.net/Gwendolyn_Bennett.htm
- “Gwendolyn Bennett’s Life and Career | Modern American Poetry: http://www.english.illinois.edu/maps/poets/a_f/bennett/life.htm
- “Gwendolyn Bennett: Artist, Writer & Journalist During the Harlem Renaissance” | Black Then: https://blackthen.com/gwendolyn-b-bennett-artist-writer-journalist-harlem-renaissance/
- “13 Poems Gwendolyn B. Bennett_Harlem Renaissance Poet” | Literary Ladies Guide: https://www.literaryladiesguide.com/classic-women-authors-poetry/poems-by-gwendolyn-b-bennett/
- Gwendolyn Bennett | Quotes: http://www.azquotes.com/author/48218-Gwendolyn_B_Bennett
Epitaph- Written by Gwendolyn B. Bennett
When I am dead, carve this upon my stone:
Here lies a woman, fit root for flower and tree,
Whose living flesh, now mouldering round the bone,
Wants nothing more than this for immortality,
That in her heart, where love so long unfruited lay
A seed for grass or weed shall grow,
And push to light and air its heedless way;
That she who lies here dead may know
Through all the putrid marrow of her bones
The searing pangs of birth,
While none may know the pains nor hear the groans
Of she who lived with barrenness upon the earth.
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