You lay in all your splendor,
Haughty in your grace
And beauty,
As if saying to Rome:
“You are nothing next to me!
My buildings gleaming in white,
Blind the eyes,
And are soothed by my cool blue bay.
You trudge on your seven hills,
Panting like the she-wolf
That whelped you.”
In the distance,
A sullen mount,
Awaken by the proud bruiting,
Smolders with longing.
His blood bubbles from deep beneath,
Rising at the sight of alabaster beauty.
There is no romance,
No loveplay,
Vesuvius erupts,
Flooding her with his molten love,
Taking her, in smothering embrace.
And Rome, her callused feet
Slapping the hard stone,
Wipes the sweat from a tanned brow,
And smiles.
Haughty in yr grace And beauty No romance or loveplay Flooding her with his molten love..... Superb expressions!
''Vesuvius erupts, Flooding her with his molten love, Taking her, in smothering embrace.'' the most interesting portion of the poem.. love it
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love your description of the destruction of Pompeii and Rome being saved wiping sweat from a tanned brow really brilliant great read A definite ten