The first god, perhaps,
Thrust out of the black
Star filled sky
As a fist of fire.
It thumped the earth
With nickel iron
And set the field aflame.
Men puzzled eyes into its surface
And a mouth agape.
A clever carpenter
Grew a body for the head.
Very quickly, an interpreter
Discovered how to tell
Its nickel iron thoughts.
Good interpreters translated well
And men thrived.
Mad interpreters made men
Do strange things.
It took centuries for good sense
To see the god as stone and wood.
Men missed this god,
So a clever carpenter
In silicon and plastic
Is putting one together
More satisfactory.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem