The Ice Man by Jeanne Lohmann

冬天，奥兰藤吉河
冻结的足够深时，我们把冰
切割成块，用雪橇拉着冰块
到极度寒冷的仓库里。
在我们的小城，邵梯.范尼塔，这位冰人，
用力拿着拨片和锯子切割
二十，五十，一百磅的冰糕
他把厚厚的皮革垫子扯到肩膀上。
用大夹子把冰块安置到
他运货车车厢的锯末上
停在有老式冰盒的
餐馆和家庭厨房前
滴油盘子在此一定被清空
在它们溢出之前
夏天我们期待邵梯的卡车，
追着他要报纸锥筒里的
闪闪发光的冰片，
用我们温暖热切的舌头
解冻融化
Winters when the Olentangy River
froze deep enough, we cut the ice
into blocks, hauled them on sleds
to deep freeze storage.
In our town, Shorty Vanetta, the ice man,
muscled his pick and saw to cut
the twenty-, fifty-, and hundred-pound cakes
he hoisted to the thick leather pad on his shoulder.
With his big tongs he settled the ice into sawdust
on the bed of his delivery truck,
stopped at restaurants and family kitchens
with old-fashioned ice boxes where
the drip pans had to be emptied
before they overflowed.
In summer we watched for Shorty’s truck,
ran for the sparkling chips he
gave us in newspaper cones,
lifted the freezing melt
to our hot and eager tongues.
“The Ice Man” by Jeanne Lohmann from Autumn in the Fields of Language. © Fithian Press, 2016. Reprinted with permission.