「你能鑄造一枚釘子嗎？」金髮男孩問，

“But can you forge a nail?” the blond boy asks,

鐵匠將一段細鐵深深推入

And the blacksmith shoves a length of  iron rod

為風箱所珍愛的燃燒的煤中

Deep in the coal fire cherished by the bellows

直到它發出火山的光芒。他曾是上帝，

Until it glows volcanic. He was a god

在時代錯誤之前，在手藝勞作

Before anachronism, before the tasks

外包給機器之前。

That had been craft were jobbed out to machine.

擊打，用錘子之歌，他製成尖厲的

By dint of   hammer-song he makes his keen,

生硬的釘身，讓玫瑰為實用加冕：

Raw point, and crowns utility with rose:

五枚花瓣戴在頭頂。

Quincunx of facets petaling its head.

一條灰蛇在風中盤行。男孩的

The breeze-made-visible sidewinds. The boy’s

金髮母親挪了挪，咳嗽幾聲。工作

Blonde mother shifts and coughs. Once Work was wed

曾與愛相結合——滿臉汗水，熏得黝黑，他

To Loveliness — sweat-faced, swarthy from soot, he

雇傭諺語提醒我們

Reminds us with the old saw he employs

（但不錯過一個拍子）：「煙追隨美而生。」

(And doesn’t miss a beat): “Smoke follows beauty.”

too fine to speak of