A traveller am I on the roads of the world. In my wanderings
have I seen lands famed in story and shorn of all glory today.
I have seen the unheeded ruins of insolent might - its banner
of victory is gone with the wind, like boisterous laughter stilled
into silence by a sudden thunder-clap.
I have found stupendous pride humbled to the dust, dust
on which the beggar spreads his tattered rags, dust on which the
traveller leaves the print of weary steps to be effaced by the
ceaseless march of unnumbered feet.
I have seen a world long dead lie entombed in layer below
layer of sand like some stately ship struck by a sudden storm
and sunk in a leaden sea with its cargo of hopes and songs and memories.
Among such symbols of impermanence I move, and feel in
the very throbbing of my heart the utter stillness of the infinite.