The Book of Ruins.
As you stepped into ruins
Of a mighty citadel,
A glorious palace,
Or of a holy temple,
Forget not, for these
Shall not be forgotten.
That on the very hills
And rocks once stood
Walls so high it sheltered
Thousands of the weak
And of its soldiers fought
Enemies back to their dens.
That once an emperor
Sat in his golden throne
With a heart full of wisdom,
Where abundance and joy
Bloomed, blossomed
Soared to the highest sky.
That once a serene temple
Sang prayers to every corner
Of the mountains and seas,
Where people bowed and knelt
Sang praises to their God
Seeking, searching Truth.
But the mightiest citadel,
The most abundant kingdom,
And the strongest pillars
Of the temple might fall,
Or burnt to ashes, vanished
Then buried in the abyss.
When you left the ruins
Of a mighty citadel,
A glorious palace,
Or of a holy temple,
Remember these and
Carry them in your soul.
Though the mighty walls
Of the citadel had fallen,
Its tower of eternal courage,
Unbending spirit for freedom
Will shine through for ages
And many ages yet to come.
That glorious golden palace
Though now ancient rubble
Clothed in dust and ashes,
Its bells will forever ring
Awaken souls from their slumber
To march, to strive, to flourish.
Though the temple is broken,
Shattered, humbled to the ground,
Neither is it silenced nor dead.
It lets the gentle wind breathe
Its songs of hope, of peace,
And whispers “I am here.”
(A poem by Rizka Baely)
Music: Mozart/
Rizka Baely on piano.
Location: Pompeii
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