Being but menBy Dylan Thomas [England] Being but men, we walked into the treesAfraid,letting our syllables be softFor fear of waking the rooks,For fear of comingNoiselessly into a world of wings and cries.
If we were children we might climb,Catch the rooks sleeping, and break no twig,And, after the soft ascent,Thrust out our heads above the branches .To wonder at the unfailing stars.
Out of confusion, as the way is,And the wonder, that man knows,Out of the chaos would come bliss. That, then, is loveliness, we said,Children in wonder watching the stars,Is the aim and the end.