Edward S. Silvera’s “South Street” presents a Philadelphia street that is not pretty or wealthy, but the speaker finds a deeper value in its people. Their songs carry the raw beauty of a jungle and the intensity of prayer. Although there are no mansions, the working men of South Street are linked to the hands that built the Egyptian pyramids—an image of strength, endurance, and ancient dignity. The last stanza grows more openly critical: South Street represents an America that is a careless foster mother, with too many neglected children fighting for the same small nourishment. The mood is a mix of pride, tenderness, and quiet anger. The speaker honors the residents’ resilience and cultural heritage while also mourning how the nation has failed them.
South Street — Summary
(Philadelphia, Pa.)
South Street is not beautiful, But the songs of people there Hold the beauty of the jungle, And the fervidness of prayer.
South Street has no mansions, But the hands of South Street men Built pyramids along the Nile That Time has failed to rend.
South Street is America, Breast of the foster mother Where a thousand ill-kept children Vie for suck, with one another.