Dylan Thomas

Dylan Thomas

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Was a Welsh poet and writer whose works include the poems "Do not go gentle into that good night" and "And death shall have no dominion"; the "play for voices" Under Milk Wood; and stories and radio broadcasts such as A Child's Christmas in Wales and Portrait of the Artist as a Young Dog.
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Не уходи покорно в сумрак ночи!

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Не уходи покорно в сумрак ночи!
Пылает пусть в закате дня
Хромая старость и пророчит
Золу, что следствие огня.
Не уходи покорно в сумрак ночи!
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Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

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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,
Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
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Incarnate Devil

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Incarnate devil in a talking snake,
The central plains of Asia in his garden,
In shaping-time the circle stung awake,
In shapes of sin forked out the bearded apple,
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Foster The Light

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Foster the light nor veil the manshaped moon,
Nor weather winds that blow not down the bone,
But strip the twelve-winded marrow from his circle;
Master the night nor serve the snowman's
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Fern Hill

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Now as I was young and easy under the apple
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and
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Poem On His Birthday

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In the mustardseed sun,
By full tilt river and switchback sea  Where the cormorants scud,
In his house on stilts high among beaks  And palavers of
This sandgrain day in the bent bay's grave  He celebrates and
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I Have Longed To Move Away

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I have longed to move
From the hissing of the spent
And the old terrors' continual
Growing more terrible as the
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Notes On The Art Of Poetry

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I could never have dreamt that there were such goings-onin the world between the covers of books, such sandstorms and ice blasts of words,,, such staggering peace, such enormous laughter, such and so many blinding bright lights,, ,splashing all ov...
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Sometimes The Skys Too Bright

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Sometimes the sky's too bright,
Or has too many clouds or birds,
And far away's too sharp a
To nourish thinking of him
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The Hand That Signed The Paper

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The hand that signed the paper felled a city;
Five sovereign fingers taxed the breath,
Doubled the globe of dead and halved a country;
These five kings did a king to death
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Now

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Say nay,
Man dry man,
Dry lover
The deadrock base and blow the flowered anchor,
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Vision And Prayer

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i W h oA r e  y o
Who   is
In   the   next
So   loud    to   my
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Prologue

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This day winding down
At God speeded summer's
In the torrent salmon sun,
In my seashaken
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Once It Was The Colour Of Saying

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Once it was the colour of
Soaked my table the uglier side of a
With a capsized field where a school sat
And a black and white patch of girls grew playing;
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Before I Knocked

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Before I knocked and flesh let enter,
With liquid hands tapped on the womb,
I who was as shapeless as the
That shaped the Jordan near my
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The Force That Through The Green Fuse Drives The Flower

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The force that through the green fuse drives the
Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of
Is my destroyer
And I am dumb to tell the crooked
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