Incarnate devil in a talking snake,
The central plains of Asia in his garden,
In shaping-time the circle stung awake,
In shapes of sin forked out the bearded apple,
And God walked there who was a fiddling warden
And played down pardon from the heavens' hill.
When we were strangers to the guided seas,
A handmade moon half holy in a cloud,
The wisemen tell me that the garden gods
Twined good and evil on an eastern tree;
And when the moon rose windily it was
Black as the beast and paler than the cross.
We in our Eden knew the secret guardian
In sacred waters that no frost could harden,
And in the mighty mornings of the earth;
Hell in a horn of sulphur and the cloven myth,
All heaven in the midnight of the sun,
A serpent fiddled in the shaping-time.
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Comments1Wow, Dylan Thomas' poetry never ceases to leave me in awe! 😍 The way he describes the scene is so vivid and imaginative, it feels like I'm transported right there. I love how he mixes religious imagery and nature, creating something mysteriously beautiful. Makes you think deep 🤔 His choice of words are always so powerfull and captivating. 👏