When you have ground such beauty down to dust

Dylan Thomas

1914 to 1953

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He whose lovers were both wise and sensible
Was when sense found a way to them
At one side’s loss,
For folly was
When wisdom lay not in the soul
And, at the touch, trembles with lover’s fever,
Folly purify and make it true.
Or sundered it to look the closer,
Come wise in foolishness,
When you have ground such beauty down to dust
Turn inside out, and see at glance
Wisdom is folly, love is not,
Go silly and be Christ’s good brother,
But in the body of the trees and stones,
As flies before the breath
Magnified and made immense
Growing on hills or shining under water.
Sense can but maim it, wisdom mar it,
When folly stirred, warm in the foolish heart.

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