When the fair-skinned missionaries came,
they were struck by the beauty of the ruins.
The heathen natives, living in crude huts now,
told them vaguely of a mighty kingdom
where Hannibal and Cleopatra ruled.
This was a city of bronze architects,
of bronze philosophers and of bronze poets.
The graffiti on the walls were hieroglyphs,
and the railway station Malcolm's palace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem