What is man?
Man, who in urgent hurry delves into all yet takes no time to reflect-
Who is unsettled and disturbed, and tries to deflect.
Man who is surrounded by beauty, and scars it with inquisitions.
Who renders and divides, and gets lost in his impositions.
Man who builds aimlessly both day and night-
Who scrambles to gain and to hoard by might.
What is man?
Man who sees himself in all, every face that is around.
And since he does not look, no one else can be found.
Man, so full of himself and proud of his power,
Who will sell his soul to gain any small hour.
That is so busy looking down on all around him,
That You would stoop Yourself to bear all shame.
What is man?
Man that You would die to reconcile?
And let test Your patience for a while?
Man who is so content with his own slavery to depravity,
That You should stir his heart against his own gravity?
What is this man that You would deign to love?
This man who scorns You, and all You’ve done?
Who am I before You,
A young one as insignificant as the next-
A man raised by another man, raised among men.
That You would love me enough to disrupt my life,
And try to make something better out of me?
Who am I before You,
Lord, I cannot fathom.
For in all our knowledge and power, we are but vapors,
And in all our wisdom we are but fools.
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