It can't take a joke, br find a star, make a bridge. br It knows nothing about weaving, mining, farming, br building ships, or baking cakes. br In our planning for tomorrow, br it has the final word, br which is always beside the point. br br It can't even get the things done br that are part of its trade: br dig a grave, br make a coffin, br clean up after itself. br br Preoccupied with killing, br it does the job awkwardly, br without system or skill. br As though each of us were its first kill. br br Oh, it has its triumphs, br but look at its countless defeats, br missed blows, br and repeat attempts! br br Sometimes it isn't strong enough br to swat a fly from the air. br Many are the caterpillars br that have outcrawled it. br br All those bulbs, pods, br tentacles, fins, tracheae, br nuptial plumage, and winter fur br show that it has fallen behind br with its halfhearted work. br br Ill will won't help br and even our lending a hand with wars and coups d'etat br is so far not enough. br br Hearts beat inside eggs. br Babies' skeletons grow. br Seeds, hard at work, sprout their first tiny pair of leaves br and sometimes even tall trees fall away. br br Whoever claims that it's omnipotent br is himself living proof br that it's not. br br There's no life br that couldn't be immortal br if only for a moment. br br Death br always arrives by that very moment too late. br br In vain it tugs at the knob br of the invisible door. br As far as you've come br can't be undone.