 | Dylan…not Bob |
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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 that 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.
***
This poem really hit me in the gut the first time I read it. It still does. I think because I lost my father when I was still in high school. Somewhere in my myriad nooks and shelves and piles of books I have a copy of the original poem as Dylan Thomas wrote it, in his handwriting. Someday I will find it again. I might even matte and frame it. Wouldn't that be lovely?
The official Dylan Thomas Website
xo, Angela
My favorite Dylan Thomas poem is “In my Craft or Sullen Art.”: “the lovers lie abed, with all their griefs in their arms.” Thanks for sharing with us, Angie.
This blog has got to be the best place on the internet. And it’s looking fancier every day. Pretty soon it will be “black tie” only. Very nice, Miss Angela.
And what a great work to feature. You have to love Dylan Thomas. I’ll have to check out litmajor’s recommendation. That line is beautiful.
Aw, yeah, this is one of my favorite, if not my favorite, poems. I hadn’t thought about it in awhile…tears sprang to my eyes reading your post here.
I lost my Dad young, too, when I was five, so, knowing hugs on that. (I’m not going *anywhere* without raging.)
hugs, E
This is a very beautiful and moving poem. Thanks for putting this up.
Yes, very moving piece of work.
While not a youngster, per se’. when I lost my father, we are always daddy’s little girl and the pain is so piercing. Six years later, I still weep at the thought of having lost my dad… and, this poem made me weep as well.
Thanks for sharing a very moving and beautiful piece of work, Angie.
Hoping that you are well,
L-
Isn’t it amazing that a few carefully selected words can have such an impact?
Rather like “Hello.This is Angela ….”
Thanks everybody…glad it brought us all together.