Dylan Thomas reads "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.