Dylan Thomas
The force that through the green fuse drives the flower  
Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees  
Is my destroyer.
And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose
My youth is bent by the same wintry fever.
 
 
The force that drives the water through the rocks  
Drives my red blood; that dries the mouthing streams  
Turns mine to wax.
And I am dumb to mouth unto my veins
How at the mountain spring the same mouth sucks.
 
 
The hand that whirls the water in the pool
Stirs the quicksand; that ropes the blowing wind  
Hauls my shroud sail.
And I am dumb to tell the hanging man
How of my clay is made the hangman’s lime.
 
 
The lips of time leech to the fountain head;  
Love drips and gathers, but the fallen blood  
Shall calm her sores.
And I am dumb to tell a weather’s wind
How time has ticked a heaven round the stars.
 
 
And I am dumb to tell the lover’s tomb
How at my sheet goes the same crooked worm.
Liked or faved by...
Other works by Dylan Thomas...



Top