Comments on: Notes on the Art of Poetry http://www.entropy.in/notes-on-the-art-of-poetry/ Both what you run from and what you yearn for are within you Tue, 07 Sep 2010 11:02:18 +0000 hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.0 By: michele http://www.entropy.in/notes-on-the-art-of-poetry/comment-page-1/#comment-375 michele Wed, 10 Sep 2008 16:11:11 +0000 http://www.entropy.in/?p=743#comment-375 thank you ajay for introducing me to these poets - i love poetry but the english poems have alluded me—maybe because of "light" handling it in the U.S. or the fact that i learned this language at 18. persian and french poetry run in my veins - i have been exposed to them all my life and they have been weaved with the warp and weft of my soul. i love this poem of Dylan i found thanks to you today: 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. thank you ajay for introducing me to these poets – i love poetry but the english poems have alluded me—maybe because of “light” handling it in the U.S. or the fact that i learned this language at 18.

persian and french poetry run in my veins – i have been exposed to them all my life and they have been weaved with the warp and weft of my soul.

i love this poem of Dylan i found thanks to you today:

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.

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