Dylan Thomas

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

Dylan Thomas Poems

41. I See The Boys Of Summer 1/3/2003
42. I, In My Intricate Image 1/3/2003
43. If I Were Tickled By The Rub Of Love 1/3/2003
44. If My Head Hurt A Hair's Foot 3/30/2010
45. In Country Sleep 3/30/2010
46. In My Craft Or Sullen Art 1/3/2003
47. In The Beginning 1/3/2003
48. In The White Giant's Thigh 3/30/2010
49. Incarnate Devil 1/3/2003
50. Into Her Lying Down Head 3/30/2010
51. It Is The Sinners' Dust-Tongued Bell 3/30/2010
52. January 1939 1/3/2003
53. Lament 1/3/2003
54. Lie Still, Sleep Becalmed 1/3/2003
55. Light Breaks Where No Sun Shines 1/3/2003
56. Limerick 3/30/2010
57. Love In The Asylum 1/3/2003
58. My Hero Bares His Nerves 1/3/2003
59. My World Is Pyramid 1/3/2003
60. Not From This Anger 1/3/2003
61. Notes On The Art Of Poetry 3/30/2010
62. Now 1/3/2003
63. O Make Me A Mask 1/13/2003
64. On A Wedding Anniversary 1/3/2003
65. On No Work Of Words 1/3/2003
66. On The Marriage Of A Virgin 3/30/2010
67. Once Below A Time 3/30/2010
68. Once It Was The Colour Of Saying 1/3/2003
69. Our Eunuch Dreams 1/3/2003
70. Out Of The Sighs 3/30/2010
71. Over Sir John's Hill 3/30/2010
72. Poem In October 1/3/2003
73. Poem On His Birthday 1/3/2003
74. Prologue 1/3/2003
75. Shall Gods Be Said To Thump The Clouds 3/30/2010
76. Should Lanterns Shine 1/3/2003
77. Sometimes The Sky's Too Bright 1/3/2003
78. The Conversation Of Prayer 1/3/2003
79. The Force That Through The Green Fuse Drives The Flower 1/3/2003
80. The Hand That Signed The Paper 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

Clown In The Moon

My tears are like the quiet drift
Of petals from some magic rose;
And all my grief flows from the rift
Of unremembered skies and snows.

I think, that if I touched the earth,
It would crumble;
It is so sad and beautiful,
So tremulously like a dream.

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