Clay

I took a piece of plastic clay And Idly fashioned it one day. And as my fingers pressed it still, It moved and yielded to my will. I came again when days had passed, This bit of clay was hard at last. The form I gave it, still it bore But I could change it never more. I took a piece of living clay, And gently formed it day by day. I molded it with power and art. It was a child’s soft and tender heart. I came again when years had gone: It was a man I looked upon. He still that early impact bore And I could change it never more.

有一天我拿了一塊黏土 愜意地捏了它一天 當我手指塑造著它時 他受我控制和改變 過了幾天當我在拿起它時 那塊黏土變得硬梆梆的 它的姿態依然記憶著我所賦予他的東西 但我卻無法再改變它了 後來我又拿了一塊新的黏土 然後一天一天溫柔地捏塑它 我將它塑造得看起來充滿力量與藝術感 且具有孩童溫柔的心 多年後我看到他變成一個成人 依然擁有當年我給予的許多栽培 但我也無法改變他了