#Welsh
To-day, this insect, and the world… Now that my symbols have outelbowe… Time at the city spectacles, and h… The dear, daft time I take to nud… In trust and tale I have divided…
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 by luck,
'Find meat on bones that soon have… And drink in the two milked crags, The merriest marrow and the dregs Before the ladies’ breasts are hag… And the limbs are torn.
A process in the weather of the he… Turns damp to dry; the golden shot Storms in the freezing tomb. A weather in the quarter of the ve… Turns night to day; blood in their…
Do not go gentle into that good ni… Old age should burn and rave at cl… Rage, rage against the dying of th… Though wise men at their end know… Because their words had forked no…
Hold hard, these ancient minutes i… Under the lank, fourth folly on G… As the green blooms ride upward, t… Time, in a folly’s rider, like a c… Over the vault of ridings with his…
A bunch of the boys were whooping… The kid that handles the music—box… Back of the bar, in a solo game, s… And watching his luck was his ligh… When out of the night, which was f…
Waking alone in a multitude of lov… Surprised in the opening of her ni… His golden yesterday asleep upon t… And this day’s sun leapt up the sk… Was miraculous virginity old as lo…
A saint about to fall, The stained flats of heaven hit an… To the kissed kite hems of his sha… On the last street wave praised The unwinding, song by rock,
If I were tickled by the rub of l… A rooking girl who stole me for he… Broke through her straws, breaking… If the red tickle as the cattle ca… Still set to scratch a laughter fr…
Do you not father me, nor the erec… For my tall tower’s sake cast in h… Do you not mother me, nor, as I a… The lovers’ house, lie suffering m… Do you not sister me, nor the erec…
I have longed to move away From the hissing of the spent lie And the old terrors’ continual cry Growing more terrible as the day Goes over the hill into the deep s…
Light breaks where no sun shines; Where no sea runs, the waters of t… Push in their tides; And, broken ghosts with glow—worms… The things of light
How soon the servant sun, (Sir morrow mark), Can time unriddle, and the cupboar… (Fog has a bone He’ll trumpet into meat),
When once the twilight locks no lo… Locked in the long worm of my fing… Nor damned the sea that sped about… The mouth of time sucked, like a s… The milky acid on each hinge,
