Do not go gentle into that good night

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.

Poem by Dylan Thomas, published by New Directions, 1952


I wish I had seen this poem in the period February - May 2003, when my father was ill. I want to go back and shout it, scream it, whisper it and sing it. Alas, if I could turn back time I would be sitting in the hospital every day, but I didn´t -- it didn´t seem necessary, I was almost annoyed for missing out on events to go to visit the hospital.

This poem also represent the attitude which I think is sometimes necessary to keep up the work, to continue caring, to comfort myself from the thought that the world is not doing too well, an encouragement to keep on fighting, when I consider I am a part of its destruction. Oh this sounds so dramatic... But it is also very inspiring -- do not go gentle into that good night -- do not stay quiet and accept injustice, but ramble and shout and scream... If I can say this to myself too, I often find it hard to not just let life pass without screaming. And sometimes, even knitting can be necessary. But I do think I need a course in shouting!