Slightly OT, but did anyone else have any issue grokking the headline?
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of 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.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/175907Edit: woops, late to the party. That's what I get for leaving a page up for 20 minutes before commenting...
It just makes it all the more confusing and misplaced, so I'm guessing the one person that doesn't get it was the author...
Correction: most native English speakers :). I for one didn't.