Finally, as the sun was setting, we climbed up on the levee of the
Mississippi and
saw a barge carrying its load to some faraway destination. Among the rush of the water
and the sound of the breeze blowing through the tall, lush grass, I swear I could almost hear
Paul Robeson's sonorous baritone singing:
|
Old Man River, That Old Man River, He must know something, But he don't say nothing; He just keeps rolling, He keeps on rolling along. |