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Quote by Dylan Thomas

“Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

Quote by Dylan Thomas

Author

Dylan Thomas
Dylan Thomas

Dylan Thomas was a renowned Welsh poet known for his unique poetic style and passionate recitations. His works were filled with love for life and contemplation of death, making him one of the most influential poets of the 20th century. more

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“And then came a damp, cold night in Flanders, through which we marched in silence, and when the day began to emerge from the mists, suddenly an iron greeting came whizzing at us over our heads, and with a sharp report sent the little pellets flying between our ranks, ripping up the wet ground; but even before the little cloud had passed, from two hundred throats the first hurrah rose to meet the first messenger of death. Then a crackling and a roaring, a singing and a howling began, and with feverish eyes each one of us was drawn forward, faster and faster, until suddenly past turnip fields and hedges the fight began, the fight of man against man. And from the distance the strains of a song reached our ears, coming closer and closer, leaping from company to company, and just as Death plunged a busy hand into our ranks, the song reached us too and we passed it along: Deutschland, Deutschland über Alles, über Alles in der Welt!”

“Как-то летел над синим морем в теплые края белый Лебедь. Утомился, больше нет сил махать крыльями. Видит — плывет в небе розовое Облачко. — Спаси меня, Облачко, — говорит Лебедь. — Нет у меня больше сил лететь. Я очень устал. — Ложись на мои розовые крылья, — сказало Облачко. — Вместе поплывем. Лег Лебедь, отдыхает. Долго летело Облачко. Вдруг почувствовал Лебедь: чего-то испугалось Облачко. — Лети скорее, Лебедь, — говорит Облачко. — Догоняет нас огненная молния. Разобъет она меня. — Нет, — говорит Лебедь. — Ты меня спасло, и я тебя спасу, хоть и сам погибну. Закрыл Лебедь своими крыльями Облачко. Ударила молния и убила Лебедя. Упал Лебедь в море и говорит: — Прощай, любимое розовое Облачко. Поплыло в синем небе Облачко красивое, но грустное. Очень жалко ему белокрылого Лебедя. Красота только потому и есть на свете, что есть верность.”