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Hephaistos, is it? Barricade the door!
For every time he comes his plan were grand;
And every time he leaves, we were more poor;
And once again is more than I can stand!

There is a ship to build. To you I bring the draft.

Of other of thy ships we built, they sank.
And there thou blamed Poseidon, or our work.
The last thou thought were late and gave no thank,
And called our manner slow, though none did shirk.

Perhaps you paused to sleep. I leave no time for that.

Of other of thy ships, our pay were small.
Of little coin! Shall this be ever all?

I carry plans, not gold. I care not what you earn.

Yet shall this be a ship so grand they’ll say,
“Honor those who built it” one good day?

Think you are beauties, then? To you they’ll never turn!

Hephaistos, if we build it, when we’re through,
On some fine journey, shall we be the crew?

Some few, perhaps, may go. More likely, not a one.

Hephaistos, hard the winter we befell.
And shall this ship then help to make it well?

Ponder well its purpose. Yet never know, till done.

I shall not once again go down his path!
For little gain, to face foul Fortune’s wrath!
And you may marry folly, fine with me,
Yet luscious lucre shall my lady be!

More work then for the rest. Thou, help me roll this flat.

Our friends shall say, we left them for a ship.
And they shall laugh once more, and we shall cry.
And something of our hearts these labors rip!
Why shall we once again a little die?

For the love of the ship, and the love of the craft.

Give me a hammer and give me a nail.
There’s joy in the work, though ‘twere no avail.

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