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Dylan Thomas - Ears In The Turrets HearDylan Thomas - Ears In The Turrets Hear
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Ears in the turrets hear Hands grumble on the door, Eyes in the gables see The fingers at the locks. Shall I unbolt or stay Alone till the day I die Unseen by stranger-eyes In this white house? Hands, hold you poison or grapes? Beyond this island bound By a thin sea of flesh And a bone coast, The land lies out of sound And the hills out of mind. No birds or flying fish Disturbs this island`s rest. Ears in this island hear The wind pass like a fire, Eyes in this island see Ships anchor off the bay. Shall I run to the ships With the wind in my hair, Or stay till the day I die And welcome no sailor? Ships, hold you poison or grapes? Hands grumble on the door, Ships anchor off the bay, Rain beats the sand and slates. Shall I let in the stranger, Shall I welcome the sailor, Or stay till the day I die? Hands of the stranger and holds of the ships, Hold you poison or grapes?
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