Go rough into that monstrous night
Dylan Thomas, 1914-1953/2026
Go rough into that monstrous night,
Each age should burn and rave at the murder of day:
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wise men at their end know dark is might,
Because their words had forked lightning they
Go rough into that monstrous night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how light
Their frail deeds sank in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learned, too late, they misjudged its down way,
Go rough into that monstrous night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like warheads and soar to dismay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my friends, there on the mad height,
Curse us now with your fierce tears, if I may.
Go rough into that monstrous night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
***
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