[00:00:00] In the White Giant's Thigh - Dylan Thomas
[00:00:00] Through throats where many rivers meet the curlews cry
[00:00:04] Under the conceiving moon on the high chalk hill
[00:00:09] And there this night I walk in the white giant's thigh
[00:00:13] Where barren as boulders women lie longing still
[00:00:18] To labour and love though they lay down long ago
[00:00:23] Through throats where many rivers meet the women pray
[00:00:27] Pleading in the waded bay for the seed to flow
[00:00:31] Though the names on their w**d grown stones are rained
[00:00:35] Away
[00:00:36] And alone in the night's eternal curving act
[00:00:41] They yearn with tongues of curlews for the unconceived
[00:00:46] And immemorial sons of the cudgelling hacked
[00:00:50] Hill who once in gooseskin winter loved all ice leaved
[00:00:56] In the courters' lanes or twined in the ox roasting
[00:01:01] Sun
[00:01:02] In the wains tonned so high that the wisps of the hay
[00:01:06] Clung to the pitching clouds or gay with any one
[00:01:11] Young as they in the after milking moonlight lay
[00:01:15] Under the lighted shapes of faith and their moonshade
[00:01:19] Petticoats galed high or shy with the rough riding
[00:01:25] Boys
[00:01:27] Now clasp me to their grains in the gigantic glade
[00:01:32] Who once green countries since were a hedgerow of
[00:01:37] Joys
[00:01:39] Time by their dust was flesh the swineherd rooted sly
[00:01:46] Flared in the reek of the wiving sty with the rush
[00:01:50] Light of his thighs spreadeagle to the dunghill sky
[00:01:56] Or with their orchard man in the core of the sun's bush
[00:02:00] Rough as cows tongues and trashed with brambles their
[00:02:04] Buttermilk
[00:02:05] Manes under his quenchless summer barbed gold to the
[00:02:12] Bone
[00:02:13] Or rippling soft in the spinney moon as the silk
[00:02:17] And ducked and draked white lake that harps to a hail
[00:02:22] Stone
[00:02:24] Who once were a bloom of wayside brides in the hawed
[00:02:27] House
[00:02:28] And heard the lewd wooed field flow to the coming
[00:02:32] Frost
[00:02:33] The scurrying furred small friars squeal in the dowse
[00:02:39] Of day in the thistle aisles till the white owl
[00:02:43] Crossed
[00:02:43] Their breast the vaulting does roister the horned
[00:02:48] Bucks climb
[00:02:50] Quick in the wood at love where a torch of foxes
[00:02:54] Foams
[00:02:55] All birds and beasts of the linked night uproar and
[00:02:59] Chime
[00:03:01] And the mole snout blunt under his pilgrimage of domes
[00:03:07] Or butter fat goosegirls bounced in a gambo bed
[00:03:11] Their breasts full of honey under their gander king
[00:03:15] Trounced by his wings in the hissing shippen long dead
[00:03:20] And gone that barley dark where their clogs danced in
[00:03:25] The spring
[00:03:26] And their firefly hairpins flew and the ricks ran
[00:03:31] Round
[00:03:32] But nothing bore no mouthing babe to the veined hives
[00:03:37] Hugged and barren and bare on mother goose's ground
[00:03:42] They with the simple jacks were a boulder of wives
[00:03:48] Now curlew cry me down to kiss the mouths of their
[00:03:53] Dust
[00:03:56] The dust of their kettles and clocks swings to and fro
[00:04:00] Where the hay rides now or the bracken kitchens rust
[00:04:03] As the arc of the billhooks that flashed the hedges low
[00:04:08] And cut the birds' boughs that the minstrel sap ran
[00:04:12] Red
[00:04:13] They from houses where the harvest bows hold me hard
[00:04:18] Who heard the tall bell sail down the sundays of the
[00:04:21] Dead
[00:04:22] And the rain wring out it's tongues on the faded yard
[00:04:27] Teach me the love that is evergreen after the fall
[00:04:30] Leaved
[00:04:31] Grave after beloved on the grass gulfed cross is
[00:04:35] Scrubbed
[00:04:36] Off by the sun and daughters no longer grieved
[00:04:41] Save by their long desirers in the fox cubbed
[00:04:46] Streets or hungering in the crumbled wood to these
[00:04:52] Hale dead and deathless do the women of the hill
[00:04:57] Love for ever meridian through the courters' trees
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