The last time they did any harm to anyone was probably thousands

    of years ago；therefore we catch them and cut them up into coats，

    Their frolicsomeness， too， sliced up by contemptuous human analysis；

    Yes， through the binoculars of the human in the dinghy，

    like a text beneath some mad scientist's magnifying-glass

    The seals as they cavort， tend to scan like some pre-prepared，

    allegedly amusing， and gloriously convenient gloss which only tells us

    That the weak are only here on this our sad planet to be hurt.

    The last time they did any harm to anyone was probably thousands

    of years ago；therefore we find them in the circus，

    like purportedly hilarious characters， forced by us to be terribly funny

    On multicolored stands， noses pressed up against old auto-horns，

    Falling all over themselves， and performing national anthems such

    as "God Bless America"； "God Save The King"； and， sometimes，

    occasionally still， "The Internationale"

    Half-Starved for a half-rotten fish， and the target

    Of our ancient disrespect， secret loathing，

    and  finally outright public contempt

    Since the weak are only here on this our sad planet to be hurt.

    Gaze， gaze again， oh Humans of Goodwill，

    upon more of what even our children typically can see

    Examine， for example， the sight of a seal coming out of its

    little white hut in a crowded city zoo；

    and then， as it raises its remaining nose to sniff the city air

    Slipping on a banana-peel； and， oh yes， let's examine all the

    uproarious reactions to that， as the creature falls

    For as long as the weak are only here on this our sad planet to be hurt