88.  Do not go gentle into that good night

Today was the day the poet and playwright Dylan Thomas (1914-1953) was born. 

He died fairly young at 39, but during his lifetime, Dylan was the most popular poet, a prominent voice on the radio, and was often invited to read on tours. 

I like his book Portrait of the Artist as a Young Dog, a collection of short prose stories.

Mostly autobiographical, the stories offer glimpses of his life and are set in his hometown of Swansea, South Wales.

His other works include: The World I Breathe, The Doctor and the Devil, and the drama Under Milk Wood. 

But he has also written some wonderful poems. 

He wrote the famous poem, “Do not go gentle into that good night,” for his dying father, even though his father did not die until the following year.

Read here the whole poem -

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at the 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.