Friday Night Poetry

It's time for a change of pace. We know the war in Iraq is a mess. We know that George W. Bush is not a good president. I'm going to move away from war poetry for a while and look for poetry that reminds us of who we are or who we need to be.

Here's a famous villanelle by Dylan Thomas from half a century ago. Good poems always have meaning beyond their original circumstance. It's called resonance. Resonance is a good thing to have.


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 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.


—Dylan Thomas (1951)