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 have 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 that 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 – Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
Reacties door alja
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dank Frank
het verkeerde perkje
bij alles dat W. vertelt, zegt hij 'maak daar maar ...
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dank Leonore
de 2e column voor de site van Pom Wolff
Hij is er nog, speelt piano en leest! Dank voor ...
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ik houd in alle opzichten meer van het suggestieve, x