Section: «Poems»
Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings:
artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.);
a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").
The Tombstone Told When She Died
The tombstone told when she died.Her two surnames stopped me still.A virgin married at rest.She married in this pouring place,That I struck one day..
© Dylan Thomas
How Soon The Servant Sun
How soon the servant sun,(Sir morrow mark),Can time unriddle, and the cupboard stone,(Fog has a boneHe'll trumpet into meat),Unshelve that all my..
© Dylan Thomas
Once Below A Time
IOnce below a time,When my pinned-around-the-spiritCut-to-measure flesh bit,Suit for a serial sumOn the first of each hardship,My paid-for slaved-for..
© Dylan Thomas
Out Of The Sighs
Out of the sighs a little comes,But not of grief, for I have knocked down thatBefore the agony; the spirit grows,Forgets, and cries;A little comes..
© Dylan Thomas
To Others Than You
Friend by enemy I call you out.You with a bad coin in your socket,You my friend there with a winning airWho palmed the lie on me when you..
© Dylan Thomas
On The Marriage Of A Virgin
Waking alone in a multitude of loves when morning's lightSurprised in the opening of her nightlong eyesHis golden yesterday asleep upon the irisAnd..
© Dylan Thomas
In The White Giant's Thigh
Through throats where many rivers meet, the curlews cry,Under the conceiving moon, on the high chalk hill,And there this night I walk in the white..
© Dylan Thomas
Notes On The Art Of Poetry
I could never have dreamt that there were such goings-onin the world between the covers of books,such sandstorms and ice blasts of words,,,such..
© Dylan Thomas
This Bread I Break
This bread I break was once the oat,This wine upon a foreign treePlunged in its fruit;Man in the day or wine at nightLaid the crops low, broke the..
© Dylan Thomas
Should Lanterns Shine
Should lanterns shine, the holy face,Caught in an octagon of unaccustomed light,Would wither up, an any boy of loveLook twice before he fell from..
© Dylan Thomas
We Lying By Seasand
We lying by seasand, watching yellowAnd the grave sea, mock who derideWho follow the red rivers, hollowAlcove of words out of cicada shade,For in..
© Dylan Thomas
It Is The Sinners' Dust-Tongued Bell
It is the sinners' dust-tongued bell claps me to churchesWhen, with his torch and hourglass, like a sulpher priest,His beast heel cleft in a..
© Dylan Thomas
When I Woke
When I woke, the town spoke.Birds and clocks and cross bellsDinned aside the coiling crowd,The reptile profligates in a flame,Spoilers and pokers of..
© Dylan Thomas
Into Her Lying Down Head
IInto her lying down headHis enemies entered bed,Under the encumbered eyelid,Through the rippled drum of the hair-buried ear;And Noah's rekindled now..
© Dylan Thomas
Then Was My Neophyte
Then was my neophyte,Child in white blood bent on its kneesUnder the bell of rocks,Ducked in the twelve, disciple seasThe winder of the..
© Dylan Thomas
Over Sir John's Hill
Over Sir John's hill,The hawk on fire hangs still;In a hoisted cloud, at drop of dusk, he pulls to his clawsAnd gallows, up the rays of his eyes the..
© Dylan Thomas
Vision And Prayer
WhoAre youWho is bornIn the next roomSo loud to my ownThat I can hear the wombOpening and the dark runOver the ghost and the dropped sonBehind the..
© Dylan Thomas
Here In This Spring
Here in this spring, stars float along the void;Here in this ornamental winterDown pelts the naked weather;This summer buries a spring bird.Symbols..
© Dylan Thomas
On No Work Of Words
On no work of words now for three lean months in thebloodyBelly of the rich year and the big purse of my bodyI bitterly take to task my poverty and..
© Dylan Thomas
Our Eunuch Dreams
IOur eunuch dreams, all seedless in the light,Of light and love the tempers of the heart,Whack their boys' limbs,And, winding-footed in their shawl..
© Dylan Thomas
Ceremony After A Fire Raid
IMyselvesThe grieversGrieveAmong the street burned to tireless deathA child of a few hoursWith its kneading mouthCharred on the black breast of the..
© Dylan Thomas
From Love's First Fever To Her Plague
From love's first fever to her plague, from the soft secondAnd to the hollow minute of the womb,From the unfolding to the scissored caul,The time for..
© Dylan Thomas
Prologue
This day winding down nowAt God speeded summer's endIn the torrent salmon sun,In my seashaken houseOn a breakneck of rocksTangled with chirrup and..
© Dylan Thomas
Hold Hard, These Ancient Minutes In The Cuckoo's Month
Hold hard, these ancient minutes in the cuckoo's month,Under the lank, fourth folly on Glamorgan's hill,As the green blooms ride upward, to the drive..
© Dylan Thomas
When, Like A Running Grave
When, like a running grave, time tracks you down,Your calm and cuddled is a scythe of hairs,Love in her gear is slowly through the house,Up naked..
© Dylan Thomas