The great poet Shelley wrote a short poem which I like, called "Ozymandias." The poem tells of a man who meets a traveller who went into the desert far away. There, he found part of a gigantic smashed statue of the great ancient ruler, Ozymandias. He also saw a tablet of stone boasting of Ozymandias' achievements. But that is all there was, for Ozymandias' greatness had completely vanished.
These two images convey to me something of this "sic transit gloria" feeling. The first was in the great city of Palmyra, in Syria. Originally mentioned in Babylonian tablets, Palmyra was a hugely important place in the 1st century AD, partly because a local businessman had had the bright idea of arranging a free trip for the Emperor Hadrian in AD 129. Hadrian liked Palmyra so much that he named it "Palmyra Hadriana" after himself, and so its future was assured. Or at least, for a while.
Now, Palmyra is in ruins. I took this picture from a mountain. The little white dots you can see are cars of visitors who have driven out to see what there is to see in this particular part of the city.
This second picture was taken in Weymouth, Dorset.
Weymouth is an English seaside town which was lput on the fashionable circuit by George III. The town worthies put a very grand statue of him on a tall pedestal just at the entrance to the town.
When I visited, I regret to say Weymouth could have done with a lick of paint and a lot of lovin', and the same went for the statue commemorating George III - whose reputation is somewhat tarnished now, too. My picture is a zoom in of the statue, at the top of his peeling plinth, seen from the rear. How are the mighty fallen - a King with a pigeon sitting on his crown.
Here is Shelley's poem.
OZYMANDIAS
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 shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked 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".
Thanks for the comment.
ReplyDeleteIt becomes the feeling which went by your blog to travel.
Updating is pleasure.
Thanks for sharing, Jenny. Love the pictures, the poem and your words too :o)
ReplyDeleteKisses
Natasha
Oh my, those lone and level sandy roads (are there any really) could almost get a person lost! It reminds me of being on a frozen lake where I live and a snow blizzard blows in (a real experience I had once) and you couldn't get your bearings as to where you were.....a compass comes in very handy in times like this! Great story, and a powerful poem, thanks.
ReplyDeleteThat first photo really can take one's breath away. Just like a shot into space, we are so small.
ReplyDeleteSo interesting! I realloy enjoyed this pictures.
ReplyDeleteYou chose such great images to illustrate the poem. Ah, life is fleeting and fame not permanent.
ReplyDeleteDarla
In the case of both pictures, I am overcome with a sense of the existential. The GReat and the Good seem to be destined as much as the rest of us for obscurity. When I see statues of Worthy Fellows, all bronze and magnificent, with pigeons irreverently perched upon their heads, I wonder whether they would, were they still alive, mind the indignity, or if they would laugh at their own presumptions.
ReplyDeleteI haven't been to Weymouth since..ooh, 1969, I believe. I imagine it's changed a bit since my pre-school visit impressed its now sepia-tinted memories onto my now unreliable brain.
How the mighty have fallen! A school friend of mine had a cat called Ozymandias, it's a cool name I think. Love Linda x
ReplyDeleteI love that poem too. We read it at school and it has always stuck with me. I find it quite chilling and sobering. The beginning of the Charlton Heston planet of the apes reminds me of it with its ruin of the statue of liberty-at least I think that is that film, actor and scene! Interesting choices of photos to illustrate.
ReplyDeleteAbout Faversham-that is exactly how I felt-so much to see!
Dramatic photos. I wonder if you could photograph a detail of Weymouth beach to look like Palmyra?
ReplyDeleteThe second photo shows exactly why it's a very bad idea to allow anyone to erect a statue of you!
I've always loved this poem and even incorporated it into one of my novels. There seems to be some controversy as to who Ozymandias was. The name is Greek but I think Shelley was referring to Egypt's Ramesses II. What do you think?
ReplyDeleteHow many apparently mighty empires and cities have risen and then fallen. How easily their rulers become lazy and complacent and then the rot sets in. I'd never heard of Palmyra - I wonder why it fell into ruins?
ReplyDeleteI visited Weymouth many years ago. At that time it was still thriving. But a lot of English seaside towns have fallen on hard times.
Thanks for the comments. Stephen, I am pretty sure it WAS Ranesses II, and Shelley saw the gigantic head when it was brought to the British Museum amidst great excitement. (Our guide in Thebes was VERY fed up about this) The bottom bit of the statue is still in Thebes! I should have taken a pic when I was in the BM the other day, and in fact will do so next time I go.
ReplyDeleteWeymouth was nice, actually, Nick and Perlnumquist! But a bit sad because it had been allowed to slide downmarket. So many seaside towns need some TLC, and I thought Weymouth was one that could potentially come up again. It was due to be renovated in time for the Olympics so I hope it has been.
Yes, Karen snow and sand are weirdly similar, and appealing in their ways. It is a wonderful view from the mountain above Palmyra, specially at dawn and sunset when the desert takes on so many strange colours.
@Relatively Retiring, (sorry, I don't know your name) it is interesting how similar things of widely differing sizes can be if you don't happen to know the scale. Like fractals, or something, I am firmly convinced,
Sarah, I never saw Planet of the Apes, it's one of those movies that I was the wrong age for or something. Must look at it, it sounds interesting.
Looks like the poor king also got dumped on by that pigeon...
ReplyDeleteHow fleeting are man's achievements.
ReplyDeleteThat second picture is really interesting.
ReplyDeleteMuch enjoy looking upon your works
ReplyDeletethough I am not mighty
nor moved to despair-
Aloha from Honolulu
Comfort Spiral
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Oh my, what can I say that would give justice to your photos and the accompanying information?
ReplyDeleteI'm a great admirer of one who can capture the essence, the ambience within a photo that they also try to convey with the added written words.
You do this very well. And sadly, a lot of English towns could do with a lick of paint and quite a bit of tender loving care.
With respect, Gary
Thank you for reminding me of Ozymandias and his crumbling empire! It is so sad to hear of what is happening in Syria and your desert image is quite telling of its glories past.
ReplyDeleteI read through your other posts I missed while I was away and was excited to find your photos showing the cuneiform. My husband and I fell in love with the Ancient Near East and used to go weekly to the Met Museum's Assyrian, Babylonian, Mesopotamian exhibits, and even acquired a few cuneiform tablets from auctions.
Congratulations on your Versatile Blogger award -- well deserved!
Both photos are perfect illustrations of the poem.
ReplyDeleteWhen I read the poem again, I cringed. It reminds me SO much of the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant, a shattered visage that lies amongst lifeless things ...
Only the sand and the wind have witnessed the prosperity and decline of the kings. The photo of the ruins under the sand of the desert tells us how small we are and transient.
ReplyDeleteGood poem indeed. I would love to visit that city, once very important. Weymouth I have been to, I came, I saw, I go back on the train!
ReplyDeleteThe poem is so apt. I found the first picture really interesting, it confirms that we are but nothing in the great universe. Poor George III ... seems he has no-one to care about him except a wild pigeon.
ReplyDeleteFallen majesty... such memories of times and power now lost. Wonderful linking. And congratulations on yout Versatile Blogger Award.
ReplyDeleteLovely post. A much underestimated poet these days, in my opinion. Weymouth is now preparing for the Olympic Sailing events, of course. It is either under construction, out of bounds or being dug up.
ReplyDeleteI love the poem and was taught by the BEST!!! All the more reason to love it =D
ReplyDeleteThe first picture is awsm! I would loveee to visit Syria one day :D
Yes, "sic transit gloria mundi".. And I'm wondering if we are not living one of those moments, when our world seems slowly disappearing to something unknown that I don't appreciate so much..
ReplyDeleteOne of my all time favorite poems too.
ReplyDeleteI used to love teaching it.
Always a big hit.
Hello Jenny:
ReplyDeleteWhat a perfect partnership of decay you show here, so beguilingly captured by your photographs and wrapped in the glorious words of Shelley.
Perhaps never more so than in these uncertain times in which we live did Ozymandias's words ring so true.
We have been away from your wonderful posts for too long but are now reading and catching up!
People fight and die and kill for that power and glory only to have it fade away eventually in time. And it always does.
ReplyDeleteThose things that have been grand at one point in time is of no more. Interesting to see what little is left of Palmyra.
ReplyDeleteI am reminded how, in the aftermath of the destruction of the great statue of the Buddha at Bamiyan in Afganistan by the Taliban, it was remarked by a Bhuddist observer something along the lines of "The statue, like everything else in the Universe, is impermanent in any case. For there will come a time when everything we know and with which we are so familiar - including every religion - will be gone and utterly forgotten."
ReplyDeleteto me this speaks of what we will leave behind...and accomplishments may warm the day but in the end it is the little things we do each day and the lives we touch...and love that poem as well..smiles.
ReplyDeleteThe first shot shows well "all glories must fade". The holes in the sand look like the traps doodlebugs leave in the sand.
ReplyDeleteThe Empire seems to leave nothing behind but it's still mysterious and beautiful.
Hello Jenny! Delighted that you dropped by my blog....I've been having a snoop here and agree with several others that you have a very interesting job! I have just been over to the Disney "empire" here in Florida. Not because I had a burning desire to meet Mickey and Minnie, but because my husband had a big meeting at a resort there. It all looks very nice, but I would rather go any day to visit something historical, or a national park, than something done with smoke and mirrors, signifying nothing! Like you I would hate to have to write "advertorials!" So much of travel writing seems to be just that these days....it's nice to read someone's actual impressions.
ReplyDeleteI remember learning this poem by heart in school!
This post reminded me of the story of The Happy Prince (see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ixd9gPjiN4s )
ReplyDeleteThere's something sad about disintegration of historic places!
I think the beauty of the poem (one of my favourites too)is in the irony that Ozymandias is best known today, simply for being the subject of that poem. We don't really even know who he is otherwise. That reality, added to the wonderful imagery of the poem itself increases its power and stark warning.
ReplyDeleteGreat post!