Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, against the dying of the light.

Thought wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lighting they.

 

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright,

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay.

Do not go gentle into that good night,

We must 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.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight,

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay.

 

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,

We must rage, rage against the dying of the light.

 

別溫順地走入那安息的長夜，

晚年在日暮時仍應發熱發聲；

怒吼，對抗生命之光的消逝。

雖然智者的言詞無法叉出雷電，

但他們深知萬物終將歸於黑暗。

 

賢者驚嘆那最後浪潮的璀璨，

他們的善行躍動於碧綠海灣。

別溫順地走入那安息的長夜，

我們怒吼，對抗生命之光的消逝。

 

狂者追逐並歌詠那飛逝的太陽，

他們省悟，惜太遲，徒生悲痛。

逝者臨終時以迷茫的視覺眺望，

盲瞳像流星般發光且充滿喜悅。

 

父親啊，就在這最悲痛的時刻，

祈願你以熱淚咒罵我，保佑我。

別溫順地走入那安息的長夜，

我們怒吼，對抗生命之光的消逝。