The miners went forth from the mine,

Mounting its future ruins.

Attacking its health with gunshots.

And fashioning its function of the mind,

With their voices they closed

The cavern shaped like a profound symptom.

Their corrosive powder was something to see!

Their oxides of height were something to hear!

Wedges of mouths, anvils of mouths, instruments of mouths.

(It is tremendous!)

The order of their tombs.

Their plastic persuasions, their choral responses,

Beat at the foot of igneous misfortunes

And the sad and saddened knew an airy yellowness

Infused

With finished metal, with metalloid small and pale.

Skulled with labour,

And shod with rodent leather,

Shod with infinite paths

And eyes of physical weeping,

Creators of profundity,

They know, in the intermittent sky of the mine lift,

How to descend looking upward.

How to rise looking downward.

Praise the ancient play of their nature,

Their sleepless organs, their rustic saliva!

Let grass grow, the lichen and the frog, in their adverbs!

Iron plush in their nuptial blankets!

Women, through and through, their women!

Much joy is theirs!

They are something portentous, the miners,

Mounting its future ruins,

Fashioning its function of the mind

And with their voices opening

The cavern shaped like a profound symptom!

Praise their yellow nature,

Their magic lantern,

Its cubes and its rhomboids, its plastic misfortunes.

And their large eyes with six optic nerves

And their children who play in the church

And their silent, childlike fathers!

Salud, O creators of profundity!