A MACHINE DIN
Furor rises far in the East,
Where a blaze breathes hot flames that burn helpless faces.
An infernal noise of creaking cogs coils the nerves
Of the weary blacksmiths who strike the steel.
Their sweat fuels their stake,
And as they hit, they melt away.
They grumble as they struggle,
But the enthusiastic clamour goes louder.
Their flesh feeds the miracle,
The voracious colossus
Who gets back on his feet
And that the world duly cheers.
Look at the label on your gear,
MADE IN CHINA
Shows the burden they bear.