Dylan Thomas

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

Dylan Thomas Poems

Comments about Dylan Thomas

  • Tony Walton (8/27/2012 2:13:00 PM)

    The greatest poet of the 20th Century. 'Fern Hill' is my personal favourite.
    Please read my biographical poem 'Portrait of Dylan'.
    If you can, visit Laugharne for yourself.

    114 person liked.
    111 person did not like.
  • Denis Prosser (2/4/2012 2:15:00 PM)

    You need to hear this poet read his and other poets work. Its really beautiful - music to your ears

  • Sylva Portoian Sylva Portoian (2/26/2010 2:43:00 PM)

    Please, let us respect this site and remove E-mails,
    This is not a place to find love,
    There are many places elsewhere!

  • ari anna arena (1/17/2007 9:24:00 PM)

    Dear Dylan,

    You are remembered of unremebered skies &petals from this magic rose.'
    aaa

  • Vikram Aarella - The Poem Shooter (5/30/2006 8:55:00 AM)

    Dylan Thomas probably the greatest poet from Wales and a true Welsh pride.

  • Neil Carson (2/14/2006 7:56:00 PM)

    Ummm.... Hi. I don't know about this guy. He seems kind of weird.

  • Neil Carson (2/14/2006 7:55:00 PM)

    Ummm.... Hi. I don't know about this guy. He seems kind of weird.

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.

Grave...

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

I See The Boys Of Summer

I

I see the boys of summer in their ruin
Lay the gold tithings barren,
Setting no store by harvest, freeze the soils;
Theire in their heat the winter floods
Of frozen loves they fetch their girls,
And drown the cargoed apples in their tides.

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