Tuesday, December 25, 2007

DT had the right stuff

Another year almost past. And with it, another birthday, unbidden, a reminder of mortality, the frailty and finality of life etched deeper into a sunken face.

Sad, isn’t it?

Shall I sit back, content with my vapid achievements, looking forward with fearful respect toward “that undiscovered country, from whose bourne no traveler returns?”

Hell no, I’m not gonna do that!


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 men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas

2 comments:

Julie Morrison said...

Happy Birthday! And I hope you glean every blessing, drain every happiness, squeeze every minute, opportunity and desire out of this time line before it's endpoint.
I'm next in 13 days...

And Happy New Year.

Nicki said...

Yes, just who is this Jack person anyway? I am quite intrigued by your blog, especially as you quote poetry as freely as the surgeon on the Bounty drank rum. Raging is always fun, but I liked Bryant's meditation as well:
http://www.poetry-archive.com/b/thanatopsis.html

So, fellow-poet, shall we to the garret and write then?