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Anonymous
European Poetry/Art 2017-08-28 11:08:48 Post No. 139402798
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European Poetry/Art 2017-08-28 11:08:48 Post No. 139402798
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What does /pol/ read? What paintings move you?
>Out of the night that covers me,
>Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
>I thank whatever gods may be
>For my unconquerable soul.
>In the fell clutch of circumstance
>I have not winced nor cried aloud.
>Under the bludgeonings of chance
>My head is bloody, but unbowed.
>Beyond this place of wrath and tears
>Looms but the Horror of the shade,
>And yet the menace of the years
>Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
>It matters not how strait the gate,
>How charged with punishments the scroll,
>I am the master of my fate:
>I am the captain of my soul.
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This one perfectly describes what it will look like when the European disappears from these lands
>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
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