Stephen Spender

What I Expected
What I expected was
Thunder, fighting,
Long struggles with men
And climbing.
After continual straining
I should grow strong:
Then the rocks would shake
And I should rest long.

What I had not foreseen
Was the gradual day
Weakening the will
Leaking the brightness away,
The lack of good to touch
The fading of body and soul
Like smoke before wind
Corrupt, unsubstantial.

The wearing of Time,
And the watching of cripples pass
With limbs shaped like questions
In their odd twist.
The pulverous grief
Melting the bones with pity.
The sick falling from earth
These, I could not foresee.


For I had expected always
Some brightness to hold in trust,
Some final innocence
To save from dust;
That, hanging solid,
Would dangle through all
Like the created poem

Or the dazzling crystal.


[a posto così, grazie]