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
The wise men at their end know dark is right
Because their words have forked no lightning
They do not go gentle into that good night
Good men the last waved 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 learned 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 against the dying of the light
Do not go gentle into that good night
Rage
against the dying of the light
Do not go gentle into that good night
Rage, rage against the dying of the light
Do not go gentle into that good night
Rage
against the dying of the light
Against the dying of the light