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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=373524" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>If I Were Tickled By the Rub of Love</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">If I were tickled by the rub of love,<br>A rooking girl who stole me for her side,<br>Broke through her straws, breaking my bandaged string,<br>If the red tickle as the cattle calve<br>Still set to scratch a laughter from my lung,<br>I would not fear the apple nor the flood<br>Nor the bad blood of spring.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Shall it be male or female? say the cells,<br>And drop the plum like fire from the flesh.<br>If I were tickled by the hatching hair,<br>The winging bone that sprouted in the heels,<br>The itch of man upon the baby's thigh,<br>I would not fear the gallows nor the axe<br>Nor the crossed sticks of war.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Shall it be male or female? say the fingers<br>That chalk the walls with greet girls and their men.<br>I would not fear the muscling-in of love<br>If I were tickled by the urchin hungers<br>Rehearsing heat upon a raw-edged nerve.<br>I would not fear the devil in the loin<br>Nor the outspoken grave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If I were tickled by the lovers' rub<br>That wipes away not crow's-foot nor the lock<br>Of sick old manhood on the fallen jaws,<br>Time and the crabs and the sweethearting crib<br>Would leave me cold as butter for the flies<br>The sea of scums could drown me as it broke<br>Dead on the sweethearts' toes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This world is half the devil's and my own,<br>Daft with the drug that's smoking in a girl<br>And curling round the bud that forks her eye.<br>An old man's shank one-marrowed with my bone,<br>And all the herrings smelling in the sea,<br>I sit and watch the worm beneath my nail<br>Wearing the quick away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And that's the rub, the only rub that tickles.<br>The knobbly ape that swings along his sex<br>From damp love-darkness and the nurse's twist<br>Can never raise the midnight of a chuckle,<br>Nor when he finds a beauty in the breast<br>Of lover, mother, lovers, or his six<br>Feet in the rubbing dust.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And what's the rub? Death's feather on the nerve?<br>Your mouth, my love, the thistle in the kiss?<br>My Jack of Christ born thorny on the tree?<br>The words of death are dryer than his stiff,<br>My wordy wounds are printed with your hair.<br>I would be tickled by the rub that is:<br>Man be my metaphor.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Dylan+Thomas">Dylan Thomas</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=373524" data-title="If I Were Tickled By the Rub of Love de Dylan Thomas" data-description="If I were tickled by the rub of love,
A rooking girl who stole me for her side,
Broke through her straws, breaking my bandaged string,
If the red tickle as the cattle calve
Still set to scratch a laughter from my lung,
I would not fear the apple n..."></div>
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