Under Milk Wood

[Tyghress]

This is my fourth or fifth time through this Dylan Thomas masterpiece, and I have to say it makes me fall in love with the English language all over again. I borrowed the Burton original recording from the library, but you can get it on line (with the transcription) at this link

I sit in my kitchen, knitting, with a cup of hot tea and listen. No better way to spend a late morning.

Tyg

[dubhlinn]

Awesome link.

Many thanks for posting it, I've been a fan for years.

Slan,
D.

[Nanohedron]

So rich. Here's a nice line:

'MRS OGMORE-PRITCHARD

And before you let the sun in, mind it wipes its shoes.'

[SteveShaw]

I know buggerall about it.

[pixyy]

Thanks very much for that link Tyg!!
Can't wait to get home and listen to it. It's been too many years since I read Under Milk Wood.

Brings back good memories - not in the least of my old favourite pub back in Holland called 't Melkwoud (Milkwood)

thanks again,
Jeroen

[jim stone]

This continues to enthrall me:


Fern Hill

Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and climb
Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves
Trail with daisies and barley
Down the rivers of the windfall light.

And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns
About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,
In the sun that is young once only,
Time let me play and be
Golden in the mercy of his means,
And green and golden I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves
Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and cold,
And the sabbath rang slowly
In the pebbles of the holy streams.

All the sun long it was running, it was lovely, the hay
Fields high as the house, the tunes from the chimneys, it was air
And playing, lovely and watery
And fire green as grass.
And nightly under the simple stars
As I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away,
All the moon long I heard, blessed among stables, the nightjars
Flying with the ricks, and the horses
Flashing into the dark.

And then to awake, and the farm, like a wanderer white
With the dew, come back, the cock on his shoulder: it was all
Shining, it was Adam and maiden,
The sky gathered again
And the sun grew round that very day.
So it must have been after the birth of the simple light
In the first, spinning place, the spellbound horses walking warm
Out of the whinnying green stable
On to the fields of praise.

And honoured among foxes and pheasants by the gay house
Under the new made clouds and happy as the heart was long,
In the sun born over and over,
I ran my heedless ways,
My wishes raced through the house high hay
And nothing I cared, at my sky blue trades, that time allows
In all his tuneful turning so few and such morning songs
Before the children green and golden
Follow him out of grace,

Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would take me
Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,
In the moon that is always rising,
Nor that riding to sleep
I should hear him fly with the high fields
And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land.
Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea.

[Coffee]

Thanks for linking that.

The introduction to it kind of serves to illustrate that we don't, on a daily basis, use modern English to its full potential.

[s1m0n]

Thanks for the link; that's a wonderful site.

I have most of these recordings on ancient vinyl from Caedmon records, and I grew up with these poems. His is the cadance that underlies all that I write.

[C age ing]

I know buggerall about it.

Being Welsh, I am allowed to criticise.
Did you know his mother pronounced his name as 'Dullun'?
A lot of his writing is.