I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast axleless wheels of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered windshield lies, whose frown,
And worn bumper, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The door that mocked them, an engine that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
'My name is Ozyvandias, car of cars:
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.
-Porsche Shelley
Who said: Two vast axleless wheels of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered windshield lies, whose frown,
And worn bumper, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The door that mocked them, an engine that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
'My name is Ozyvandias, car of cars:
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.
-Porsche Shelley