A Page that Time now covers with his hand

A page that Time now covers with his hand
A ruin in a desert over grown
With weeds — the all thats left us of the grand
Exploits of Alexander who alone
Conquered the whole world to his vain command
& tother all the pomp that doubt dwells on
As being the remnant of great Babylon
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.