Lift up your face
Dylan Thomas
1914 to 1953
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Lift up your face, light
Breaking, stare at the
Consoling for night by day
That chases the ghosts the trees
And the ghosts of the brain,
Making what was stale
In the unsleeping mummery
Of men creatures horribly
Staring at stone walls.
Lift up your head, let
Comfort come through the devil’s clouds,
The nightmare’s
Suspended from the devil’s precipice,
Let comfort come slowly,
Up your hand to stroke the light,
Its honeyed cheek, soft-talking mouth,
Lift up the blinds over the blind eyes.
Out of unsleeping cogitations,
When the skeleton of war
with the corpse of peace,
(Notes not in sympathy, discord, unease),
The only visitor,
Must come content.
Therefore lift up, see, stroke the light.
Content shall come after a night
If only with sunlight.
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