THE SONG OF THE FORGES.

O frenzied forges with your noise and blaring,

Red, reeking fires that comb dishevelled skies,

Your hollow rumbling is like stifled swearing,

And the grassed earth about you burns and dies.

When blind, mad man, intent on gain and plunder,

Thinks he is matter's master, in your maw

Lugubriously rolls a hollow thunder,

That says: We forge and forge, without a flaw,

The chains from which thou hast not wit to save thee,

O foolish man! we rivet link by link

The shackles which for ever shall enslave thee.

Sweat, pant, and fill the furnace to the brink,

Throw in the coal, and pour the crackling casting

Through the cut sand, beat, crush the pig to shape,

Temper the sword, sheet, deck, and rig with masting

The tyrant ships that sweep the sea with grape,

Crowd with machines the hamlet and the haven,

To prison thee more deep than dungeons held

In durance making thee a pauper craven...

Stupid humanity! we weld and weld

With the vile toil disease beyond reclaiming,

And imbecility, and discontent,

Murder, and hate that sets the mansion flaming,

Bloody revolt and heavy punishment.

We forge the fate of every generation;

We crush the father and the child as well,

Spitting at heavens that shake with consternation

The soot and coal of our relentless hell!

See! to the stainless blue of skies upcurling

Our towering chimneys' belched, polluted breath,

Above the waste and ravaged lands unfurling

Their sable flags of slavery and death!

Contemporary Belgian Poetry Selected and Translated by Jethro Bithell · 第 87 / 232 题