They lift it up to their shoulders and have to carry it. They set it on a stand, and there it sits, unable to move from its place. When someone cries out to it, it never answers nor saves anyone from trouble.
The blacksmith takes his tongs and heats it over the coals, forming it with hammers, forging it with his strong arm. But when he gets hungry, his strength ebbs away, and if he doesn’t drink water, he quickly grows weary.
The wealthy pour out their gold, weigh out their silver in the scales, and hire a goldsmith who crafts it into a ‘god.’ Then they bow down before it to worship it.