Now by Dylan Thomas — Read

Now / Say nay, / Man dry man, / Dry lover mine

The deadrock base and blow the flowered anchor, / Should he, for centre sake, hop in the dust, / Forsake, the fool, the hardiness of anger.

Now / Say nay,

Sir no say, / Death to the yes, / The yes to death, the yesman and the answer, / Should he who split his children with a cure / Have brotherless his sister on the handsaw.

Now / Say nay, / No say sir / Yea the dead stir, / And this, nor this, is shade, the landed crow,

He lying low with ruin in his ear, / The cockerel's tide upcasting from the fire.

Now / Say nay, / So star fall,

So the ball fail, / So solve the mystic sun, the wife of light, / The sun that leaps on petals through a nought, / The come-a-cropper rider of the flower.

Now

Say nay / A fig for / The seal of fire, / Death hairy-heeled, and the tapped ghost in wood, / We make me mystic as the arm of air,

The two-a-vein, the foreskin, and the cloud.