Dylan Thomas

1914-1953 / Male / Welsh
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A Child's Christmas In WalesOne Christmas was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now and out of all sound / except the distant speaking of the voices I sometimes hear a moment before sleep, that I can never remember / whether it snowed for six days and six nights when I was twelve or whether it snowed for twelve days and twelve
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Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good NightDo 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.
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Poem In OctoberIt was my thirtieth year to heaven / Woke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood / And the mussel pooled and the heron
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Clown In The MoonMy tears are like the quiet drift / Of petals from some magic rose; / And all my grief flows from the rift
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Twenty-Four YearsTwenty-four years remind the tears of my eyes. / (Bury the dead for fear that they walk to the grave in labour.) / In the groin of the natural doorway I crouched like a tailor
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Love In The AsylumA stranger has come / To share my room in the house not right in the head, / A girl mad as birds
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Among Those Killed In The Dawn Raid Was A Man Aged A HundredWhen the morning was waking over the war / He put on his clothes and stepped out and he died, / The locks yawned loose and a blast blew them wide,
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A Letter To My AuntA Letter To My Aunt Discussing The Correct Approach To Modern Poetry / To you, my aunt, who would explore / The literary Chankley Bore,
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Poem On His BirthdayIn the mustardseed sun, / By full tilt river and switchback sea / Where the cormorants scud,
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Especially When The October WindEspecially when the October wind / With frosty fingers punishes my hair, / Caught by the crabbing sun I walk on fire
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