Ozymandias

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.'

This is one of my favourite poems and the Cham site at My Son, twenty minutes drive from Hoi An, illustrates the verse beautifully. Despite, or perhaps because of, its UNESCO World Heritage Site status, the site has suffered great damage through the years. Pillaging, natural erosion and bombing during the Vietnam War have all taken their toll, and the temples have a real decaying civilisation feel. The jungle presses in on all sides, there is little commercial presence, and the curators, or guards, sit away from the buildings smoking cigarettes and playing cards on fold-up tables.

Preservation efforts seem minimal. When the last partially standing temple finally falls, I'm sure the site will be lost to the jungle again -- tourists don't want to visit piles of masonry. Being a dreamer, and someone who thinks about the far-future too much, it makes me wonder when our great cities will be lost and forgotton.

And then I think, who will rediscover them?

London, 26th Century?