MEANINGLESS

MEANINGLESS

I met a traveler from an antique land

Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stones

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.

-Ozymandias,  Percy Bysshe Shelley

I hated all things I had toiled under the sun, because I must leave them to the one who comes after me.  And who knows whether he will be a wise man or a fool? Yet he will have control over all the work into which I have poured my effort and skill under the sun. This too is meaningless

-Ecclesiastes 2:18-19)

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