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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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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All All And All The Dry Worlds LeverI / All all and all the dry worlds lever, / Stage of the ice, the solid ocean,
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All That I Owe The Fellows Of The GraveAll that I owe the fellows of the grave / And all the dead bequeathed from pale estates / Lies in the fortuned bone, the flask of blood,
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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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And Death Shall Have No DominionAnd death shall have no dominion. / Dead mean naked they shall be one / With the man in the wind and the west moon;
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A Process In The Weather Of The HeartA process in the weather of the heart / Turns damp to dry; the golden shot / Storms in the freezing tomb.
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A Refusal To Mourn The Death, By Fire, Of A Child In LondonNever until the mankind making / Bird beast and flower / Fathering and all humbling darkness
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Author's PrologueThis day winding down now / At God speeded summer's end / In the torrent salmon sun,
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Ballad Of The Long-Legged BaitThe bows glided down, and the coast / Blackened with birds took a last look / At his thrashing hair and whale-blue eye;
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