Dylan Thomas: Do not go gentle into that good night / Ne odlazi blag u dobru tu tminu

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.

Ne odlazi blag u dobru tu tminu.
Starost nek divlja u konac dana.
Bjesni, bjesni što zatiru svjetlinu.

I mudri pred smrt prihvate sudbinu
riječ im munjama ne bje sazdana
i ne odlaze blagi u dobru tu tminu.

Suze im kanu hodeć u daljinu.
Krhka u gaju djela im odigrana.
Bjesne, bjesne što zatiru svjetlinu.

Divlji sunce love, poju mu toplinu,
a tužbalica bje pjesan opjevana.
Ne odlaze blagi u dobru tu tminu.

Razboritom u smrt sljepoća minu:
oko mu zvijezda obasjana.
Bjesni, bjesni što zatiru svjetlinu.

Sad uđi, oče, u višnju gorčinu,
kuni me, blagoslovi, plačuć zarana.
Bjesni, bjesni što zatiru svjetlinu.
Ne odlazi blag u dobru tu tminu.