The force that through the green fuse drives the flower
Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees
Is my destroyer
Man be my metaphor’,
Dylan ThomasOne: I am a Welshman; two: I am a drunkard; three: I am a lover of the human race, especially of women.
Dylan ThomasLove is the last light spoken.
Dylan ThomasTags: love
Which is the world? Of our two sleepings, which / Shall fall awake when cures and their itch / Raise up this red-eyed earth?
Dylan ThomasThis world is half the devil's and my own, / Daft with the drug that's smoking in a girl / And curling round the bud that forks her eye.
Dylan ThomasThese are but dreaming men. Breathe, and they fade.
Dylan ThomasA worm tells summer better than the clock,
The slug's a living calendar of days;
What shall it tell me if a timeless insect
Says the world wears away?
Especially when the October wind
With frosty fingers punishes my hair,
Caught by the crabbing sun I walk on fire
And cast a shadow crab upon the land,
By the sea's side, hearing the noise of birds,
Hearing the raven cough in winter sticks,
My busy heart who shudders as she talks
Sheds the syllabic blood and drains her words.
In my Craft or Sullen Art
Not for the proud man apart
From the raging moon I write
. On these spindrift pages
Nor for the towering dead
With their nightingales and palms
But for the lovers, their arms
Round the griefs of the ages,
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