Explore "Ears in the Turrets Hear" by Dylan Thomas on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Ears in the turrets hear / Hands grumble on the door, / Eyes in the gables see / The fingers at the locks.
Shall I unbolt or stay / Alone till the day I die / Unseen by stranger-eyes / In this white house?
Hands, hold you poison or grapes?
Beyond this island bound / By a thin sea of flesh / And a bone coast, / The land lies out of sound / And the hills out of mind.
No bird or flying fish / Disturb this island's rest.
Ears in this island hear / The wind pass like a fire, / Eyes in this island see
Ships anchor off the bay.
Shall I run to the ships / With the wind in my hair, / Or stay till the day I die / And welcome no sailor?
Hands, hold you poison or grapes?
Hands grumble on the door, / Ships anchor off the bay, / Rain beats the sand and slates.
Shall I let in the stranger,
Shall I welcome the sailor, / Or stay till the day I die?
Hands of the stranger and holds of the ships, / Hold you poison or grapes?