Explore "The Tombstone Told" by Dylan Thomas on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
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, / Before I heard in my mother's side / Or saw in the looking-glass shell / The rain through her cold heart speak / And the sun killed in her face.
More than that I cannot tell.
Before she lay on a stranger's bed / With a hand plunged through her hair, / Or that rainy tongue beat back / Through the devilish years and innocent deaths
To the room of a secret child, / Among men later I heard it said / She cried her white-dressed limbs were bare / And her red lips were kissed black, / She wept in her pain and made mouths,
Talked and tore though her eyes smiled.
I who saw in a hurried film / Death and this mad heroine / Meet once on a mortal wall / Heard her speak through the chipped beak
Of the stone bird guarding her: / I died before bedtime came / But my womb was bellowing / And I felt with my bare fall / A blazing red harsh head tear up
And the dear floods of his hair.