Tick tock round the clock
sick rock dropp down low
As the swiveling sphinx turns
To see the enterprise ago
Another age another place
Magnitude in scope with little hope
That till great men fall
The aqueduct is all
Never such a statement made
As to turn the tides of destiny
And set the core of the world
To rocking in ever larger tides
When great men fall
The World goes with them
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem