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Arwen Fic Rec: Against the Dying of the Light

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EPaws said:
Well I quite like the title. Anyone who incorporates Welsh Dylan (Dylan Thomas) at the start of a fic merits a read at some point.
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Do read! It's a good fic!
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Do not go gentle into that good night
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
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EPaws said:
Kim....will you marry me? No seriously, you Welsh Dylan...sigh....I love you. Yes I do. I do. I do. Do you know I know by heart A Child's Christmas in Wales....did you know that every Christmas Eve we play it. Tis vinyl and an original reading by him from the 60s ( the recording dated from the 60s for vinyl he clearly did it 3 years before his death). Had it digitized last year when Ian approached the old school record player with strong intent wanting to understand the needle and scratched it. Actually he had just discovered the merits of running at things... For one brief shining moment I wanted to off my child...yes, I did...but fortunately for him, his father gave me the eyebrow lift and said...those magic words..."Buttons, I got this." Yes...a murder was prevented that evening.
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EPaws said:
Milster I will read as I will also read Shared Chambers...just not today and just not tomorrow.
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To tell the truth, there is actually a piece for wind band that I have played several times called "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night," that's how I first became aware of the poem. It was written in memory of two young people (I think girls, not that it matters) that were killed in an auto accident. I think it was commissioned by their school.

And Stacey, the Shared Chambers series is worth reading.
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If anyone besides me cares:

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And:

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
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Lol @ Stacey and Kim, you've hijacked my post. But it's all good!

Read them when you can Stacey! Mara is an incredible writer worth reading!
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We do that sometimes...
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