Sir Stephen Spender

After the first powerful plain manifesto The black statement of pistons, without more fuss But gliding like a queen, she leaves the station.


Born of the sun they travelled a short while towards the sun, And left the vivid air signed with their honour.


Gestürzte Idole sind nur noch Schutt.


Lorbeeren, auf denen man sich ausruht, verwandeln sich in Kakteen.


My parents kept me from children who were rough And who threw words like stones and who wore torn clothes.


Never being, but always at the edge of Being.


Pylons, those pillars Bare like nude, giant girls that have no secret.


Their collected Hearts wound up with love, like little watch springs.


Totschweigen ist Mord ohne Blutvergießen.


What I had not foreseen Was the gradual day Weakening the will Leaking the brightness away.


Who live under the shadow of a war, What can I do that matters?


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