In my being, a stir, random and wild
Created man, who said he was my child
And for one turn of the turnstile
Clay ruled dust, just awhile
Amused, the elements watched and waited
Wondering what was eventually fated
For this mix of black and white
A little clay, a little light
And humankind, helter skelter
Moving from shelter to shelter
Played a strange new game
Called 'religion', in my name
There was no evil under the stars
Not created by this child of ours
They even imagined a part of me
A 'Satan' where none used to be
But this childish game of pretend
Was soon played out to its end
And in the endless rhythm of time
The Universe again became sublime
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem