Dylan Thomas

(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953 / Swansea / Wales)

Dylan Thomas Poems

1. Shall Gods Be Said To Thump The Clouds 3/30/2010
2. If My Head Hurt A Hair's Foot 3/30/2010
3. Unluckily For A Death 3/30/2010
4. Once Below A Time 3/30/2010
5. In The White Giant's Thigh 3/30/2010
6. How Soon The Servant Sun 3/30/2010
7. Why East Wind Chills 3/30/2010
8. Find Meat On Bones 3/30/2010
9. The Tombstone Told When She Died 3/30/2010
10. Out Of The Sighs 3/30/2010
11. I Make This In A Warring Absence 3/30/2010
12. Grief Thief Of Time 3/30/2010
13. This Bread I Break 3/30/2010
14. It Is The Sinners' Dust-Tongued Bell 3/30/2010
15. Should Lanterns Shine 1/3/2003
16. On The Marriage Of A Virgin 3/30/2010
17. To Others Than You 3/30/2010
18. We Lying By Seasand 3/30/2010
19. Prologue 1/3/2003
20. When I Woke 3/30/2010
21. Notes On The Art Of Poetry 3/30/2010
22. Then Was My Neophyte 1/3/2003
23. In Country Sleep 3/30/2010
24. Over Sir John's Hill 3/30/2010
25. The Conversation Of Prayer 1/3/2003
26. Limerick 3/30/2010
27. Vision And Prayer 1/13/2003
28. Our Eunuch Dreams 1/3/2003
29. Into Her Lying Down Head 3/30/2010
30. When, Like A Running Grave 1/3/2003
31. When All My Five And Country Senses See 1/3/2003
32. The Seed-At-Zero 1/3/2003
33. January 1939 1/3/2003
34. From Love's First Fever To Her Plague 1/3/2003
35. Hold Hard, These Ancient Minutes In The Cuckoo's Month 1/3/2003
36. On No Work Of Words 1/3/2003
37. Twenty Four Years 1/3/2003
38. Ceremony After A Fire Raid 3/30/2010
39. My World Is Pyramid 1/3/2003
40. How Shall My Animal 1/3/2003
Best Poem of 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.


Read the full of Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Before I Knocked

Before I knocked and flesh let enter,
With liquid hands tapped on the womb,
I who was as shapeless as the water
That shaped the Jordan near my home
Was brother to Mnetha's daughter
And sister to the fathering worm.

I who was deaf to spring and summer,
Who knew not sun nor moon by name,

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