Poem by Dylan Thomas

Clown in the Moon

My tears are like the quiet drift
Of petals from some magic rose;
And all my grief flows from the rift
Of unremembered skies and snows.

I think, that if I touched the earth,
It would crumble;
It is so sad and beautiful,
So tremulously like a dream.

1. Ceremony after a Fire Raid
2. January 1939
3. On No Work of Words
4. Lie Still, Sleep Becalmed
5. We Lying by Seasand

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