As usual inspired by V, I am reminded of this poem from my school days. I remember our English teacher (dont remember who exactly it was, could have been Mrs. Mazumdar), explaining this as I listened rapt, because even then this poem had a massive impact. And as she unravelled the key message to me, about how all his power and wealth is nothing but dust down the ages, it struck a chord that has stayed with me to this day.
Incidentally, if I were asked to identify the biggest artistic influence of my life, it would be my English teachers - Mrs. Mazumdar, Mrs. Rodrigues and Mrs. Uma Thomas - people who helped me discover and relish and decode a world that is my anchor to this day...the world of literature and poetry.
Ozymandias
by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)
I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
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