Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of the day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their 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 sight
Blind 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.
不要温柔地走向那个良夜，
老年人应该燃烧，咆哮在这最后的时光，
怒斥吧，怒斥这光明的消失。
尽管睿智的人知道生命的最后黑暗会占据上风，
但由于他们激烈的言词将不再迸发出闪电的火花
他们也不会轻易地走向那个良夜。
善良的人，当最后一浪呼啸而过，高呼
他们脆弱的善举将是多么的辉煌在这绿色的海湾里舞蹈，
怒斥吧，怒斥这光明的消失。
野蛮的人抓住并歌唱过飞奔的太阳，
尽管他们懂得已为时已晚，他们也曾在中途悲伤，
不要轻易的走向那个良夜。
行将就木的人，用他们眩晕的目光看着
盲人的眼睛也可以像流星一样闪烁而欢欣鼓舞，
怒斥吧，怒斥这光芒的消失。
而你，我的父亲，在这痛苦的至高点，
诅咒并祝福我吧，用你的热泪，我祈求。
不要温柔地走进那个良夜，
怒斥吧，怒斥这光明的消失！
