Old man
fringed now in your blue land
long under the sea's spell
stubborn in your old stone house
clamped to the coastal cliff like a limpet
away from the madness of the multitude
can you recall a people
racing south on rafts
from an island's rumbling wrath
to seek
these honeyed hills of Xaghra
and build this Temple of the Giants?
In these ambitious ruins
amid these giant limestone blocks
carved with cunning patterns
do I see an ancient poet's verse?
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