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

Dylan Thomas at wikipedia

Under Milk Wood 

xo, Angela