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Day by day the gods decline,
Their images slipping over The years and centuries, And now, no one knows who is god and who is man. In the brain of mankind god is crouched, Fingertips pressed to his temples In sign of remorse And in his bitter regret cries aut: What, oh what have I created? Man does not know Whether god is his creation Or he a creation of god, But he sees that is a folly To meditate upon an idol That answers not. And now, no one knows who is god and who is man. A time has come When man understand one another well enough To build the Tower of Babel- And at the top of the Tower, to the highest throne Man will mount And thence cry aut: God! Where are you?
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