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Rating: 3.1
Too proud to die; broken and blind he died
The darkest way, and did not turn away,
A cold kind man brave in his narrow pride

On that darkest day, Oh, forever may
He lie lightly, at last, on the last, crossed
Hill, under the grass, in love, and there grow

Young among the long flocks, and never lie lost
Or still all the numberless days of his death, though
Above all he longed for his mother's breast
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Shaun Cronick 28 June 2020
The way Dylan has structured and layered his poem is immense. And it still is to this day an unfinished work. But enough on display to leave a reader speechless. Da nos da Dylan a sain cwsg.
3 0 Reply
Neville Barnes 11 October 2019
I cannot read this without weeping.
2 0 Reply
Walterrean Salley 29 November 2016
(Elegy by Dylan Thomas.) **Thought provoking.
3 1 Reply
Brian Jani 26 April 2014
Awesome I like this poem, check mine oit
4 14 Reply

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6/18/2021 2:27:19 AM #