Slight king, oblique bishop, and a queen
Blood-lusting; upright tower, crafty pawn—
Over the black and the white of their path
They foray and deliver armed battle.
They do not know it is the artful hand
Of the player that rules their fate,
They do not know that an adamant rigor
Subdues their free will and their span.
But the player likewise is a prisoner
(The maxim is Omar’s) on another board
Of dead-black nights and of white days.
God moves the player and he, the piece.
What god behind God originates the scheme
Of dust and time and dream and agony?

Jorge Luis Borges, Chess