OH wonderful machine, so self-sufficient, so sufficient unto yourself!
You who have no feeling of the moon as she changes her quarters!
You who don’t hear the sea’s uneasiness!
You to whom the sun is merely something that makes the
thermometer rise!
Oh wonderful machine, you are man’s idea of godliness,
you who feel nothing, who know nothing, who run on absolved
from any other connection!
Oh you godly and smooth machine, spinning on in your own
Nirvana,
turning the blue wheels of your own heaven
almighty machine
how is it you have to be looked after by some knock-kneed wretch
at two pounds a week?
Oh great god of the machine
what lousy archangels and angels you have to surround yourself with!
And you can’t possibly do without them!