Pray to the gods for our feeble bodies, for we were created;
---
Endowed with folly, in err we strain to appease, thinking that our deeds bring the gods pleasure?
---
From dust we came and to dust we shall return, like a blind man stumbling with no cane, so we stumble thinking our minds can ever satiate the most holy?
---
Yet, it is not I, who is to blame, nor you, nor him;
naked we came out of the womb, impression less, reared from pain, unequal except in our species. Happy must the gods be at their creation.
No comments:
Post a Comment