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”.
Shelley has used the exotic ancient past of Egypt to demonstrate that
art can critique power and, perhaps, to make a statement about the politics of
his own time. Ozymandias may have been a despotic tyrant but his Empire and his
monument have been reduced to rubble – only the sneer remains and the inscription.
The traveller who is relating the story looks about him after reading it but
only sees the “Lone and level sands that stretch far away”. Nature is mightier
than the king and all of his power and glory is reduced to dust. The vast
desert is mocking human vanity and hubris. For me, this is an absolute masterpiece
Footnote: What does this poem have in common with Breaking Bad?
The final season of Breaking Bad follows Walter White as his meth-producing empire, metaphorically crumbles into the sand in the desert of New
Mexico. Near the end of the consistently brilliant series one of the best
episodes is called .........'Ozymandias'.
I have been listening to the brilliant but tragic Judee Sill singing The Kiss. You can hear it here. There is also a live version from the BBC which I find very emotional (but I'm a bit soppy).