Friday, March 31, 2006

Do not go gentle into that good night



















Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas

2 Comments:

Blogger Patry Francis said...

This poem still has the power to raise the flesh on my arms.

4:53 PM  
Blogger Sigrid Jardin said...

Thank you for bringing that poem back into my life again. I knew it well many years ago, and have not heard it or thought of it for a long time. It still stirs me, and makes me grateful for my current good health. I wish the same for you.

2:43 PM  

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