I met a traveller from an antique land

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said:—Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shatter'd visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things,
The hand that mock'd them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains: round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.


Is this the greatest poem of all time?

No, it's reddit tier

REAL men don't like reddit-tier things

Try some of Schopenhauer's poetry (he hated women)

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: [...] "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!" [...]

[Shelley, 1818]

I wouldn't know. Unfortunately whenever i hear "look up my works, ye mighty, and despair!"
>I see

>File: tumblr—nzr...

Aight

I feel like the last three lines are entirely unnecessary and dilute the juxtaposition set up earlier

I met [...] mighty [...] despair!

[My Diary Desu, 2016]

Yes. I realised this. but it was the first place i got the gif from. I apologise.

I like it a lot OP

Is there any other short form poetry about decay and the impermanence of things, such as kings and empire?

'Tis wond'rous to inspire thought of things,
How kings and empires change, decay, doth say
The least impermanence is life's constant.

—B. Shakespeare (W. Shakespeare's younger brother)

For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings;
How some have been deposed; some slain in war,
Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed;
Some poison'd by their wives: some sleeping kill'd;
All murder'd: for within the hollow crown
That rounds the mortal temples of a king
Keeps Death his court and there the jester sits,
Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp,
Allowing him a breath, a little scene,
To monarchize, be fear'd and kill with looks,
Infusing him with self and vain conceit,
As if this flesh which walls about our life,
Were brass impregnable, and humour'd thus
Comes at the last and with a little pin
Bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!

its pretty good from a personal point of view, just because I grew up with the poem (like most of us probably) and its imagery had a large impact on me

do I now realise there are better poems by present standards? yes. but its still one of my favourites.

>present standards

>I believe
>in unicorns
>you can't
>change that

>let me be
>myself
>don't try
>to impose,

>I want
>to touch his
>warm skin,
>tender, but
>he thinks
>I'm over-weight.

Breaking Bad ruined it. It's meme-tier garbage now, beloved by every trenchcoat-and-fedora'd gentleman.

>I think that what I am presented with on Veeky Forums is reality

I guess Ozymandias has Ozyman-died itself!

>I liked it but then it became popular, now I think it sucks

What then, the products of a distant galaxy?

Same

Is there an internal rhyme to this poem? I can feel the flow from reading out loud, but I'm too retarded to see beyond the obvious end ones (read-fed, decay-away etc)

Shelley was a fucking hack. So was Keats. Romanticism didn't perfect itself until Yeats.

ABABACDCEDEFEF

Kind of agree actually dude

I mean MY present standards, as opposed to what I thought was good when I was a teenager, you absolute mong

What does that matter?

>do I realise there are better poems by My current subjective standards, likely formed by those same poems?

Supertautaulogical

>(he hated women)
>fucking pseud only likes a brilliant philosopher for the most idiotic bit of his thought

Underrated