Being But Men (Dylan Thomas Poems)
Being but men, we walked into the treesAfraid, letting our syllables be softFor fear of waking the rooks,For fear of ...
Being but men, we walked into the treesAfraid, letting our syllables be softFor fear of waking the rooks,For fear of ...
It is a winter's taleThat the snow blind twilight ferries over the lakesAnd floating fields from the farm in the ...
This day winding down nowAt God speeded summer's endIn the torrent salmon sun,In my seashaken houseOn a breakneck of rocks ...
I Into her lying down head His enemies entered bed, ...
I make this in a warring absence whenEach ancient, stone-necked minute of love's seasonHarbours my anchored tongue, slips the quaystone,When, ...
This day winding down nowAt God speeded summer's endIn the torrent salmon sun,In my seashaken houseOn a breakneck of rocksTangled ...
Altarwise by owl-light in the half-way house The gentleman lay graveward with his furies; Abaddon in the hangnail cracked from ...
IMyselvesThe grieversGrieveAmong the street burned to tireless deathA child of a few hoursWith its kneading mouthCharred on the black breast ...
When, like a running grave, time tracks you down,Your calm and cuddled is a scythe of hairs,Love in her gear ...
IOur eunuch dreams, all seedless in the light,Of light and love the tempers of the heart,Whack their boys' limbs,And, winding-footed ...
Then was my neophyte,Child in white blood bent on its kneesUnder the bell of rocks,Ducked in the twelve, disciple seasThe ...
IAll all and all the dry worlds lever,Stage of the ice, the solid ocean,All from the oil, the pound of ...
'Find meat on bones that soon have none,And drink in the two milked crags,The merriest marrow and the dregsBefore the ...
Hold hard, these ancient minutes in the cuckoo's month,Under the lank, fourth folly on Glamorgan's hill,As the green blooms ride ...
Why east wind chills and south wind coolsShall not be known till windwell driesAnd west's no longer drownedIn winds that ...
Out of the sighs a little comes,But not of grief, for I have knocked down thatBefore the agony; the spirit ...
The conversation of prayers about to be saidBy the child going to bed and the man on the stairsWho climbs ...
When I woke, the town spoke.Birds and clocks and cross bellsDinned aside the coiling crowd,The reptile profligates in a flame,Spoilers ...
OOut of a bed of loveWhen that immortal hospital made one more moove to sootheThe curless counted body,And ruin and ...
Waking alone in a multitude of loves when morning's lightSurprised in the opening of her nightlong eyesHis golden yesterday asleep ...
On no work of words now for three lean months in thebloodyBelly of the rich year and the big purse ...
This bread I break was once the oat,This wine upon a foreign treePlunged in its fruit;Man in the day or ...
When, like a running grave, time tracks you down, Your calm and cuddled is a scythe of hairs, Love in ...
This day winding down now At God speeded summer's end In the torrent salmon sun, In my seashaken house On ...
I Our eunuch dreams, all seedless in the light, Of light and love the tempers of the heart, Whack their ...
On no work of words now for three lean months in the bloody Belly of the rich year and the ...
Then was my neophyte, Child in white blood bent on its knees Under the bell of rocks, Ducked in the ...
Hold hard, these ancient minutes in the cuckoo's month, Under the lank, fourth folly on Glamorgan's hill, As the green ...
Too proud to die; broken and blind he died The darkest way, and did not turn away, A cold kind ...
I I, in my intricate image, stride on two levels, Forged in man's minerals, the brassy orator Laying my ghost ...
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