Ah, well, the thing that lived lives on,
And who are we to say it nay?
When Vandal and when Goth had gone,
Long, long beyond great Caesar's day,
The Arts that sought for heights sublime,
Still scaled Olympus, scorning time.
And we who tread this little earth,
Seeking for profit or for fame,
And count one life's poor efforts worth
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem