- published: 04 May 2016
Dylan Marlais Thomas (27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953) was a Welsh poet and writer who wrote exclusively in English. In addition to poetry, he wrote short stories and scripts for film and radio, which he often performed himself. His public readings, particularly in America, won him great acclaim; his sonorous voice with a subtle Welsh lilt became almost as famous as his works. His best-known works include the "play for voices" Under Milk Wood and the celebrated villanelle for his dying father, "Do not go gentle into that good night". Appreciative critics have also noted the craftsmanship and compression of poems such as "In my Craft or Sullen Art", and the rhapsodic lyricism in "And death shall have no dominion" and "Fern Hill".
Dylan Thomas was born in the Uplands area of Swansea, Glamorgan, Wales, on 27 October 1914 just a few months after the Thomas family had bought the house. Uplands was, and still is, one of the more affluent areas of the city.
His father, David John Thomas (1876–1952), had attained a first-class honours degree in English at University College, Aberystwyth, and was dissatisfied with his position at the local grammar school as an English master who taught English literature. His mother, Florence Hannah Thomas (née Williams) (1882–1958), was a seamstress born in Swansea. Nancy, Thomas's sister, (Nancy Marles 1906–1953) was nine years older than he. Their father brought up both children to speak only English, even though he and his wife were both bilingual in English and Welsh. David was even known to give Welsh lessons at home.
Dylan Thomas — Lament
Dylan Thomas — If I Were Tickled By The Rub Of Love
Richard Burton reads Dylan Thomas - from 'Under Milk Wood': Rev. Eli Jenkins' poem
Richard Burton reads Dylan Thomas's poem 'The force that through the green fuse drives the flower'.
Dylan Thomas: Under Milk Wood - Richard Burton: BBC Play - 1/8
Arena - Dylan Thomas From Grave to Cradle (BBC 2003) - Part 1
"Do not go Gentle into that Good Night" Dylan Thomas
Dylan Thomas — Fern Hill
Bulldog Reading Dylan Thomas
Anthony Hopkins reads Dylan Thomas
Dylan Thomas -- Under Milk Wood
Dylan Thomas
Dylan Thomas
Dylan Thomas Poetry
When the morning was waking over the war
He put on his clothes and stepped out and he died,
The locks yawned loose and a blast blew them wide,
He dropped where he loved on the burst pavement stone
And the funeral grains of the slaughtered floor.
Tell his street on its back he stopped a sun
And the craters of his eyes grew springshots and fire
When all the keys shot from the locks, and rang.
Dig no more for the chains of his grey-haired heart.
The heavenly ambulance drawn by a wound
Assembling waits for the spade's ring on the cage.
O keep his bones away from the common cart,
The morning is flying on the wings of his age
And a hundred storks perch on the sun's right hand.