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Poetry Lars P. Helvard Hold F-02 Dylan Thomas (1914 – 1953) Do not go gentle into that good night Do not go gentle into that good night, x x u xu xu x u x, 10 Old age should burn and rave at close of day; x x u x u x u x u x; 10 Rage, rage against the dying of the light. x x ux u xu x u x. 10 Though wise men at their end know dark is right, u x u x u x u x u x, 10 Because their words had forked no lightning they ux u x u x u xu x 10 Do not go gentle into that good night. u x u xu xu x u x. 10 Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright u x, u x u x, xu x u 10 Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, x u x u x u x u x u, 10 Rage, rage against the dying of the light. u x ux u xu x u x. 10 Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, x x u x u x u x u x, 10 And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, u x u x u x u x u x, 10 Do not go gentle into that good night. u x u xu xu x u x. 10 Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight x x u x u x u xu x 10 Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, x u x u x xuu xu x, 11 Rage, rage against the dying of the light