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poet Dylan Thomas
#22 on top 500 poets
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Poems by Dylan Thomas : 63 / 100
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O Make Me A Mask - Poem by Dylan Thomas
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O make me a mask and a wall to shut from your spies
Of the sharp, enamelled eyes and the spectacled claws
Rape and rebellion in the nurseries of my face,
Gag of dumbstruck tree to block from bare enemies
The bayonet tongue in this undefended prayerpiece,
The present mouth, and the sweetly blown trumpet of lies,
Shaped in old armour and oak the countenance of a dunce
To shield the glistening brain and blunt the examiners,
And a tear-stained widower grief drooped from the lashes
To veil belladonna and let the dry eyes perceive
Others betray the lamenting lies of their losses
By the curve of the nude mouth or the laugh up the sleeve.
Make Me A Mask was created by artist Juliediela Hermoso Correa in 2018. This art piece , which is part of the prints portfolio, is a Digital Art / Computer Art, Paintings artwork. The style of this artwork is best described as Abstract. The genre portrayed in this piece of art is Composition. The artwork was created in Digital. The size of the original art is 27 (inches) H x 20 (inches) W.
Words which artist Juliediela Hermoso Correa feels best describe this work of art are: poema, poemDylan, Thomas, art, mask, máscara.
About Juliediela Hermoso Correa
I currently identify with this Canticle:
"Come over here," some with sweet eyes tell me,
and they extend their arms to me, sure
that it would be good for me to hear them
when they say "Come here!"
I look at them with exhausted eyes
(there are, in my eyes, ironies and fatigue)
and I cross my arms
and I never go there ...
My glory is this:
Create dehumanity!
Do not accompany anyone.
-I live with the same indifference
with which I tore my mother's belly.
No, I'm not going around! I'm just going where
They take my own steps ...
If what I want to know, none of you answers me,
Why do they repeat "Come over here"?
I prefer to slip through muddy alleyways,
remove the winds
like rags, drag your bloody feet,
to go out there ...
If I came to the world, it was
to deflower virgin forests
and draw my own feet in the unexplored sand!
The rest I do is worth nothing.
How, then, will you be
those who give me impulses, tools and courage
to tear down my obstacles? ...
In his veins runs the ancient blood of the grandparents
and love the easy things!
I love the Mirage and the Distant,
I love the abysses, the torrents, the deserts ...
Platform! You have streets,
they have gardens, they have pots,
they have homelands, they have roofs,
and they have rules and treaties and sages and philosophers.
I have my Madness!
I pick her up, like a torch, let her burn in the dark night,
and I feel blood and foam and chants on the lips ...
God and the Devil are the ones who guide me, nobody else.
Everyone had a father, everyone had a mother,
but I, that I do not start or conclude,
I was born of the love between God and the Devil.
Oh, may no one give me pious intentions!
Nobody ask me for definitions!
Nobody tell me "Come here!"
My life is a gale that broke loose.
It is a wave that has risen.
And one more atom that is animated ...
I do not know where I'm going,
I do not know where I'm going,
- I know I do not go there!
José Regio