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Creato da stefano.caldiron il 07/03/2012
poesie, racconti, considerazioni
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The blacksmith
From the earth iron and coal
thus with the air
the fire so generated
makes the metal
tender
like clay
Red
the metal receives
the rigth blows
of the man.
Soft, he said,
blow hard now
and the wrought iron of the hammer
knocks as much as required.
And so, blow after blow
at times soft at times strong
the matter gets closer
to the idea.
The hammer comes down
precise
and relentless
without overdoing.
No blow is wasted
but the last one
cuts down the strenght
of the arm
touches the anvil only
and resounds.
The man can recognize
the last
good blow.
Then he puts
the matter on the coal
and waits.
Here
he beats again
soft clay
at first red
then grey.
Here the end
of the work,
here the realized
idea.
A glance,
a certainty, then
the cry of the temper
lasts less than an instant
and the water
becomes again
silent
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