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stephen spender - thoughts during an air raid lyrics

of course, the entire effort is to put oneself
outside the ordinary range
of what are called statistics
a hundred are k!lled in the outer suburbs
well, well, one carries on
so long as this thing ”i” is propped up on
the girdered bed which seems so like a he+rs+
in the hotel bedroom with the wallpaper
blowing smoke wreaths of roses, one can ignore
the pressure of thosе names under the fingеrs
indented by lead type on newsprint
in the bar, the marginal wailing wireless
yet, supposing that a bomb should dive its nose right through this bed, with oneupon it?
the thought’s obscene
still, there are many
for whom one’s loss would demonstrate
the ”impersonal” use indeed
the essential is
that every one should remain separate
propped up under roses, and no one suffer
for his neighbour
then horror is postponed
piecemeal for each, until it settles on him
that wreath of incommunicable grief
which is all mystery or nothing

- stephen spender lyrics

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