Poem by Dylan Thomas

* * *

Once it was the colour of saying
Soaked my table the uglier side of a hill
With a capsized field where a school sat still
And a black and white patch of girls grew playing;
The gentle seaslides of saying I must undo
That all the charmingly drowned arise to cockcrow and kill.
When I whistled with mitching boys through a reservoir park
Where at night we stoned the cold and cuckoo
Lovers in the dirt of their leafy beds,
The shade of their trees was a word of many shades
And a lamp of lightning for the poor in the dark;
Now my saying shall be my undoing,
And every stone I wind off like a reel.

1. Unluckily for a Death
2. Out of the Sighs
3. In Country Sleep
4. Into Her Lying Down Head
5. I Make This in a Warring Absence

Print

1134 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version