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Though lovers be lost love shall not.
Dylan Thomas
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Dylan Thomas
Age: 39 †
Born: 1914
Born: October 27
Died: 1953
Died: November 9
Author
Novelist
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Abertawe
Dylan Marlais Thomas
Grief
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Lovers
More quotes by Dylan Thomas
I sang in my chains like the sea
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Break in the sun till the sun breaks down, And death shall have no dominion.
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Beginning with doom in the bulb, the spring unravels.
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Youth calls to age across the tired years: 'What have you found,' he cries, 'what have you sought? 'What have you found,' age answers through his tears, 'What have you sought.
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I went on all over the States, ranting poems to enthusiastic audiences that, the week before, had been equally enthusiastic about lectures on Railway Development or the Modern Turkish Essay.
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After the first death, there is no other.
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You wouldn't think such a place as San Francisco could exist. The wonderful sunlight there, the hills, the great bridges, the Pacific at your shoes. Beautiful Chinatown. Every race in the world. The sardine fleets sailing out. The little cable-cars whizzing down The City hills. And all the people are open and friendly.
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It snowed last year too: I made a snowman and my brother knocked it down and I knocked my brother down and then we had tea.
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In the beginning was the word, the word That from the solid bases of the light Abstracted all the letters of the void.
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Though they go mad they shall be sane, though they sink through the sea they shall rise again though lovers be lost love shall not and death shall have no dominion.
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Dark is a way and light is a place, Heaven that never was Nor will be ever is always true Poem on His Birthday
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... Rebel against the flesh and bone, The word of the blood, the wily skin, And the maggot no man can slay.
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I hold a beast, an angel, and a madman in me, and my enquiry is as to their working, and my problem is their subjugation and victory, down throw and upheaval, and my effort is their self-expression.
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Do not go gently into that good night but rage, rage against the dying of the light.
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The closer I move To death, one man through his sundered hulks, The louder the sun blooms And the tusked, ramshackling sea exults.
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Hands have not tears to flow.
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One Christmas was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now and out of all sound except the distant speaking of the voices I sometimes hear a moment before sleep, that I can never remember whether it snowed for six days and six nights when I was twelve or whether it snowed for twelve days and twelve nights when I was six.
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The only sea I saw Was the seesaw sea With you riding on it. Lie down, lie easy. Let me shipwreck in your thighs.
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Reading one's own poems aloud is letting the cat out of the bag. You may have always suspected bits of a poem to be overweighted, overviolent, or daft, and then, suddenly, with the poet's tongue around them, your suspicion is made certain.
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The moment of a miracle is unending lightning.
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