Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
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 grieve 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.
I read a parody of this poem written by a contemporary of Thomas who published it in a local newspaper that made the message a bit more “breezy”: Do not let go of that gas tonight, Hold it in with all your might, I say; Contain, contain that airy flight. Though wise men at their end know flatulence is right, Because their cheeks had crinkled no lightning, Do not let go of that gas tonight. Good men, the last wave by, admiring tight, Their efforts to keep decorum bright, Contain, contain that airy flight. Wild men who caught and sang the fart in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not let go of that gas tonight. Grave men, near breath, who see with blushing sight Blushing cheeks could blaze like meteors and be gay, Contain, contain that airy flight. And you, my friend, there on the bumpy height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce breath, I pray. Do not let go of that gas tonight. Contain, contain that airy flight.
I believe that the words speak to the notion that one should not give into the darkness of death, rather “rage, rage against the dying of the light” or dying of life.