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 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
Haul 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
Ho at my sheet goes the same crooked worm.
............................
Leanne xx
What a beautiful and moving poem. Wales moves my soul in so many ways too. Xoxo
ReplyDeleteWhat gorgeous scenery! I take it you had a great time. Is it a Welsh Poem? It's beautiful. Mel x
ReplyDeleteOh thank you, for the photos and the poem. I love Dylan Thomas. I need to read more poetry, I'd forgotten how much I love it. x
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