Feeding the worm
Who do I blame
Because laid down
At last by time,
Here under the earth with girl and thief,
Who do I blame ?
Mother I blame
Whose loving crime
Moulded my form
Within her womb,
Who gave me life and then the grave,
Mother I blame.
Here is her labour’s end,
Dead limb and mind,
All love and sweat
Gone now to rot.
I am man’s reply to every question,
His aim and destination.
I am busy working to bring Dylan Thomas's "Written for a Personal Epitaph" to life through some unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you soon.
At V2Melody, each arrangement is crafted with care through a thoughtful partnership of human artistry and technological innovation. This process involves:
This creative journey takes time—each composition represents hours of dedicated work to create something that deepens our connection to Dylan Thomas's words in meaningful ways.
While you wait for the complete interpretation, I invite you to explore other musical arrangements in my gallery or learn more about Dylan Thomas's life and contributions to literature.
Check back soon to experience how "Written for a Personal Epitaph" transforms when verse meets melody—a unique journey that makes poetry accessible, engaging, and profoundly moving in new ways.