Не уходи смиренно в сумрак вечной тьмы,Пусть тлеет бесконечность в яростном закате.Пылает гнев на то, как гаснет смертный мир,Пусть мудрецы твердят, что прав лишь тьмы покой.И не разжечь уж тлеющий костёр.Не уходи смиренно в сумрак вечной тьмы,Пылает гнев на то, как гаснет смертный мирDylan ThomasDo 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 and know dark is right,Because their words had forked no lightning theyDo not go gentle into that good night.Good men, the last wave by, crying how brightTheir 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 sightBlind 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.