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Dylan Thomas - Lament

When I was a windy boy and a bit
And the black spit of the chapel fold,
(Sighed the old ram rod, dying of women),
I tiptoed shy in the gooseberry wood,
The rude owl cried like a tell-tale tit,
I skipped in a blush as the big girls rolled
Nine-pin down on donkey's common,
And on seesaw sunday nights I wooed
Whoever I would with my wicked eyes,
The whole of the moon I could love and leave
All the green leaved little weddings' wives
In the coal black bush and let them grieve.

When I was a gusty man and a half
And the black beast of the beetles' pews
(Sighed the old ram rod, dying of bitches),
Not a boy and a bit in the wick-
Dipping moon and drunk as a new dropped calf,
I whistled all night in the twisted flues,
Midwives grew in the midnight ditches,
And the sizzling sheets of the town cried, Quick!-
Whenever I dove in a breast high shoal,
Wherever I ramped in the clover quilts,
Whatsoever I did in the coal-
Black night, I left my quivering prints.

When I was a man you could call a man
And the black cross of the holy house,
(Sighed the old ram rod, dying of welcome),
Brandy and ripe in my bright, bass prime,
No springtailed tom in the red hot town
With every simmering woman his mouse
But a hillocky bull in the swelter
Of summer come in his great good time
To the sultry, biding herds, I said,
Oh, time enough when the blood runs cold,
And I lie down but to sleep in bed,
For my sulking, skulking, coal black soul!

When I was half the man I was
And serve me right as the preachers warn,
(Sighed the old ram rod, dying of downfall),
No flailing calf or cat in a flame
Or hickory bull in milky grass
But a black sheep with a crumpled horn,
At last the soul from its foul mousehole
Slunk pouting out when the limp time came;
And I gave my soul a blind, slashed eye,
Gristle and rind, and a roarers' life,
And I shoved it into the coal black sky
To find a woman's soul for a wife.

Now I am a man no more no more
And a black reward for a roaring life,
(Sighed the old ram rod, dying of strangers),
Tidy and cursed in my dove cooed room
I lie down thin and hear the good bells jaw--
For, oh, my soul found a sunday wife
In the coal black sky and she bore angels!
Harpies around me out of her womb!
Chastity prays for me, piety sings,
Innocence sweetens my last black breath,
Modesty hides my thighs in her wings,
And all the deadly virtues plague my death!

Added: on November 23rd, 2005 at 8:24 PM | Viewed: 7665 times | Comments (2)


Lament - Comments and Information

Poet: Dylan Thomas
Poem: Lament

Comment 2 of 2, added on January 22nd, 2006 at 1:54 PM.

LAMENT -This type of poem is an ODE it starts out being something specific and develops into something more profound.The poems themes are of romantic poetry,it contains themes of emotion,nature,self-expression and passion and hostility to establishments like the church of England on line 26'and the black cross of the holy house'.
Line 2'and the black beast of the beatties pews'

Individual and emotional feelings matter more than reason and moral rules, line 18'i whistled all night in the twisted flues'-he went on a spree, nights of passion,where and whenever he could.
line19 'midwives grew in the midnight ditches' he got women pregnant and backstreet abortions had to be carried out in secret.
line20' and the sizzling beds of the town cried,QUICK' he does not decipher between married and unmarried women ,everyones a conquest 'sizzling beds' refers to the heat and passion of sexual activity.'QUICK!'-Wives hear their husbands arriving home ,the opening and closing of gates and front doors,they tell him to go.
line 28 'brandy and ripe in my bright bass prime'-sexually at his peak.
line 31 'but a hillocky bull in the swelter'-metaphor he is a sexual predator he thinks he has greater stamina in himself than any younger lads.The lines are used in a list form giving the poem an accummulative effect helping build the images the writer wants the reader to think as well as aid the structure and give cohesion to the poem.

In every stanza his lifestages are explained by his actions.stanza 1 he was a young lad going through puberty.
stanza 2 dylan refers to himself as a gusty young man, revealling his boastfulness of his sexual conquests,he rveals a change in attitude to women line 16 'not a boy and a bit in the wink dipping moon-wink dipping is metaphor for having sex with someone.

There is an rhyme pattern in stanza 1 and 2 lines four lines apart are para-rhyming line 13'half' with line 17 'calf'.line 14 'pews' with line 18'flues'.line 15'bitches' with line 19'ditches'.line 16 with line20.

Stanza 3 .he enters midlife,when he is at his sexual peak ,line 26 he refers to himself as a 'blackcross of the holy house'he was anti church.In line 35 & 36 'for my sulking ,skulking,coal black soul 'he shares his thoughts and regrets.

stanza 4 there is a definite change of tone
line 37'when i was a half of the man i was'
line 38 'and serve me right as the preachers worn'
he means the people at church were right
line 39'sighed the old ramrod ,dying of downfall'
he is no longer able to maintain a permanent erection.
He goes on to describe himself as
line 42 'blacksheep with crumpled horn' crumpled horn being metephor for limp penis,dylan had put all his beliefs in the workings of his penis but now that has given way.His belief is gone .How ever he goes on to get married.
the last stanza he feels trappedline 51' the old ramrod dying of strangers'metaphor for all the women he meets in his life as a family man he has to rethink his attitude to promiscuity.
line53 & 54'i lie down thin and hear the good bells jaw-----for oh my soul found a sunday wife-metaphor for he has married a church going woman.
line 55'she bore angels'-he became a father.
line 56 'harpies around me out of her womb !'
this translates from metaphor-he describes his children as cherib like winged angels.Good imagery is used here.A complete transformation has taken place ,RELIGION now plays a major role in Dylans life,though he still bears guilt from days bygone


jagatdeep singh minhas from United Kingdom
Comment 1 of 2, added on November 23rd, 2005 at 8:24 PM.

Read, experience, and feel how this poem begins in a misty haze, and gradually collapses into the darkness of death. I wrote a portion of my senior thesis in my undergraduate years on his very phenomenom. Somehow it fit nicely with my fin de siecle theme theme of this paper.

Chrysalis Lupold from United States

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