Time Goes Round and Round

My favorite poem is Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by Thomas Dylan - a Welsh poet/essayist during the early 20th century. I was first exposed to Mr. Dylan when my 8th grade English teacher began class by playing his recording of this poem dedicated to his dying father.

The last stanza ends with,

"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."

These words had a profound effect on me and to this day I can still recite the poem word for word. I think that everyone has a point in their life when we are forced to rage against the dying of the light, to fight for something we believe in, or to endure.

Our family is doing great, but as I listened to some Bob Dylan this evening I was reminded of this fierce little Welsh man with a pug nose and his tough pauper lyrics.

If you have never read the poem in its entirety, I have quoted it below...Enjoy.

"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."