A more serious difficulty is, that, as it was customary to apply the same honorific titles to both a god and the king, it is often uncertain to which the original meant to apply them. This may have been left intentionally vague. Some translators have taken on themselves to settle to which they will refer the epithet, to the god or to the king. Such translations are only interesting as a record of private opinions. They settle nothing, do not even give a presumption in favor of anything. It is more honest to leave the translation as vague as the original, when this can be done. This part of the stele is full of rare words, or what is just as bad, words which invariably occur in the same context. If a king calls himself by some strange honorific title, it is no assistance to understanding the meaning of it that a score of successors should do the same. Of many words, all we can conjecture is that the king was honored by them. There is nothing to indicate what they really meant. In some cases “mighty” is as likely to be correct as “wise.” There is no reason why we should prefer either rendering. Both can hardly be right, neither may really be. Some king may once have prided himself on being an expert potter, as a modern monarch might on being a photographer. If he called himself on a monument a “superb potter,” all his successors would keep the title, though they never made a pot in their lives. We have only to peruse the titles of modern monarchs to be sure of the fact. It is, therefore, to be hoped that no one will build any far-reaching theories upon logical deductions from the translations given here or elsewhere of such honorific titles. Prologue To The Code Of Ḥammurabi