Saturday, February 23, 2008

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

By Dylan Thomas

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.

2 comments:

LCC said...

How annoying, that some adver-blogger found your post.

As to the poem, I love it. Submit peacefully to death? Never! Rage! Rage!

Jane Austen said...

On this day I must bid my aristocratic counterparts farewell. I shall not go into detail of what has driven me to such action, but it was the topic of Gary’s speech. I have authored a brief, might you say, rebuttal, which can be read here.

Jane Austen (48)