Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

19 lines that forever changed who I am.

19 lines that define the essence of humanity.

19 lines that I humbly read for you now.

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night – Dylan Thomas

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.

Recording Things

I suppose I should say thank you to start off with. I did not actually expect anyone to comment, never mind comments running the gamut from Revelations up to the Wonky Donkey. I will, as best as I can fulfill every single request that was presented to me. After all, why would I bother asking if I had no plans to do the things? As you can imagine, some of those requests are going to take some time and some of them are, possibly, multi-month projects. I will do them, and more besides because not only do I have an enormous amount of free time on most days, I have a desire to make people happy and if doing these things can brighten someone day, then so be it.

I won’t wait until all of a thing is done, that seems stupid in the case of the presented novel suggestions, I will most likely break it up into chapters and see where I can go from there. Some will take a sitting, and as I said, especially for the fantasy and science fiction requests, those will take dozens of sittings to get done and remember that I cannot do this every day. Three kids is a pain in the ass as often as it is a blessing after all.

Today, while I get sorted and try to figure out what I am going to do and when I thought I would start on a thing I have wanted to do for some time. At Classical Poets, there is a list of the ten greatest poems in the English language under 50 lines, so I thought, what the hell, I can do that and see what we see.

To start is the absolutely sensational poem by Robert Frost, “The Road Not Travelled”

 

 

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Now that you have heard me constructively destroy the illusion of choice, you go ahead and have an awesome Wednesday.
Loves,
Bear