(Excerpt)

Awake all sweet sounds

bells hanging on the necks

of lambs, make them echo

sweetly, the faraway flocks

on crevasses and hillsides,

oh mule rider make them

sound sweetly for love’s sake.

And let a holy stirring come

out of your hands, you the

never touched by fear

created by a godly ghost

let the thundering bell’s

holy stirring to be heard

deep in the ocean’s soul.

Oh, so futile, oh so futile!

And you, my hand, let down

the steel you hammer, stop

pounding, stop the war you

fought against the anvil

I’m the copper-smith labourer

who wished for other things and

other things I create.

I’m the coppersmith whose

hammer doesn’t create, your

nails, nor your arms, swords,

spears, not even the church bell

nor chains, not locks, not even

bells for the lambs, nor ploughs

to open the earth, not beds for

our homes, not sickles, nor

reigns; I’m the copper smith

whose hammer only creates

nothing but the beautiful and

useless: such first invented and

unmatched is my art. And

I’m a magician of the fire and
I find and steal from it snakes

and monsters and I formed them

even more bizarre in steel.

https://www.lulu.com/account/projects/gjgv4ee https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0D3LP7NW6