Everything sublime is as difficult as it is rare. Baruch Spinoza

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Neurotic Poets


.....an overgrown baby who'll destroy every last thing he can get his hands on, including himself.
Truman Capote, on Dylan Thomas

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 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. 

Dylan Thomas
 

3 comments:

Ganeida said...

At least you did this one [which I like] & not any Under Milkwood [which I don't]. I'm fairly ambigious about Thomas. Awful man, some gorgeous poetry & some absolutely stunning imagery.

Sandra said...

He had some problems! Died young, too. But I do like much of his work. It seems the really interesting poets are a mess as people.

Just Jules said...

a good one for sure.