In a land of ancient past,
packed with antiquities made to last,
there lied the granite mast,
a sign of man gone by fair and fast.
The mast was all that was left,
of great Ozymandias, now acleft,
with a warning to all near and far,
"Behold my wonders: grand and spectacular! "
A sandy breeze further dusted this forgotten land,
as nothing remained to entitle that brand.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem