Treasure Island

Gleb Zavlanov

Julius Caesar

Oh, Caesar, though our touch is lost in time:
Weeks, passing years, and years long eons, passed,
I still can hear and feel in learnéd rhyme
Your essence. Like some bee which has amassed
Sweets of the digitalis and the rose,
So have you much amassed in glory’s sack.
Yet just as power strengthens, so greed grows
And weighs much heavy burdens on the back!
Oh, Caesar, stricken soul who now weeps on
The fallen ashes of your flaming lands
Who roamed into the gold of Egypt’s sun
The spirit who travailed on its sands,
It looks as if the boon of glory’s womb
Had come to stow the image of your tomb

© 2014 Gleb Zavlanov

Submitted: Saturday, March 22, 2014
Edited: Monday, March 24, 2014

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