Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

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 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.

Suggested read : Dylan Thomas

Suggested rythm : Easily – RHCP

3 Responses to Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

  1. Velu October 16, 2006 at 2:02 pm #

    The first three of those line scare me… honest!

  2. abhishek October 23, 2006 at 11:45 pm #

    Nice. Don’t follow Dylan Thomas, but very nicely written. Can’t place where I’ve read the first line though, but I’m sure there’s another song that begins like that. Probably Frost. Anyways, there’s another song by William Blake that this one reminded me of:

    TIGER, tiger, burning bright
    In the forests of the night,
    What immortal hand or eye
    Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

    In what distant deeps or skies
    Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
    On what wings dare he aspire?
    What the hand dare seize the fire?

    And what shoulder and what art
    Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
    And when thy heart began to beat,
    What dread hand and what dread feet?

    What the hammer? what the chain?
    In what furnace was thy brain?
    What the anvil? What dread grasp
    Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

    When the stars threw down their spears,
    And water’d heaven with their tears,
    Did He smile His work to see?
    Did He who made the lamb make thee?

    Tiger, tiger, burning bright
    In the forests of the night,
    What immortal hand or eye
    Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

  3. b v n October 24, 2006 at 6:07 am #

    Velu, its supposed to inspire 🙂

    abhishek, welcome 🙂 its quoted a lot by Bill Clinton..yup tiger is a nice poem…thanks fpr putting it down

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