Angkor Poem by Paul G. Kallen

To M-me S. B.

The once-magnificent metropolis is dead.
The jungle enfolds the stunning architecture.
A zone, where the primal law of nature
Annulled the royal code and etiquette.

Strive for eternity is destiny of kings —
Eternal life exists within eternal glory.
Kings have an idée fixe: memento mori,
Then, glorify themselves by any means.

When turning time of their reign into space,
It is easier than to churn the Milky Sea,
Khmer kings had no chances to foresee
The jungle could not endure its disgrace.

The Buddhist monks, the spiritual keepers,
Who live in the abandoned temples up to now,
They praise the allegory; let them flow —
The jungle and the ruins loving whispers.