Author's Prologue poem by Dylan Thomas

This day winding down now
At God speeded summer’s end
In the torrent salmon sun,
In my seashaken house
On a breakneck of rocks
Tangled with chirrup and fruit,
Froth, flute, fin and quill
At a wood’s dancing hoof,
By scummed, starfish sands
With their fishwife cross
Gulls, pipers, cockles, and sails,
Out there, crow black, men
Tackled with clouds, who kneel
To the sunset nets,
Geese nearly in heaven, boys
Stabbing, and herons, and shells
That speak seven seas,
Eternal waters away
From the cities of nine
Days’ nights whose towers will catch
In the religious wind
Like stalks of tall, dry straw,
At poor peace I sing
To you stranger (though song
Is a burning and crested act,
The fire of birds in
The world’s turning wood,
For my sawn, splay sounds),
One of these seathumbed leaves
That will fly and fall
Like leaves of trees and as soon
Crumble and undie
Into the dogdayed night.
Seaward the salmon, sucked with slips,
And the dumb swans drub blue
My dabed bay’s dusk, as I hack
This rumpus of shapes
For you to know
How I, a spinning man,
Glory also this star, bird
Roared, sea born, man torn, blood blest.
Hark: I trumpet the place,
From fish to jumping hill! Look”
I build my bellowing ark
To the best of my love
As the flood begins,
Out of the fountainhead
Of fear, rage red, manalive,
Molten and mountainous to stream
Over the wound asleep
Sheep white hollow farms

To Wales in my arms.
Hoo, there, in castle keep,
You King singsong owls, who moonbeam
The flickering runs and dive
The dingle furred deer dead!
Hullo, on plumbed bryns,
O my ruffled ring done
In the hooting, nearly dark
With Welsh and reverent rook,
Coo rooing the woods’ praise,
Who moons her blue notes from her nest
Down to the curlew herd!
Ho, hullaballoing clan
Agape,with woe
In your beaks, on the gabbing capes
Heigh, on horseback bill, jack
Whisking hare! who
Hears, there, this fox light, my flood ship’s
Clangour as I hew and smite
(A clash of anvils for my
Hubbub and fiddle, this tune
On a tongued puffball)
But animals thick as thieves
On God’s rough tumbling grounds
(Hail to His beasthood!).
Beasts who sleep good and thin,
Hist, in hogsback woods! The haystacked
Hollow farms in a throng
Of waters cluck and cling,
And barnroofs cockcrow war!
O kingdom of neighbours, finned
Felled and quilled, flash to my patch
Work ark and the moonshine
Drinking Noah of the bay,
With pelt, and scale, and fleece:
Only the drowned deep bells
O sheep and churches noise
Poor peace as the sun sets
And dark shoals every holy field.
We will ride out alone, and then,
Under the stars of Wales,
Cry, Multitudes of arks! Across
The water lidded lands,
Manned with their loves they’ll move,
Like a wooden island, hill to hill.
Huloo, my prowed dove with a flute!
Ahoy, old, sea-legged fox,
Torn tit and Dai mouse!
My ark sings in the sun
At God speeded summer’s end
And the flood flowers now.

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