Julius Caesar

Oh, Caesar, though our touch is lost in time: Weeks, passing years, and years long eons, passed, I still can hear and feel in learnéd rhyme Your essence. Like some bee which has amassed Sweets of the digitalis and the rose, So have you much amassed in glory’s sack. Yet just as power strengthens, so greed grows And weighs much heavy burdens on the back! Oh, Caesar, stricken soul who now weeps on The fallen ashes of your flaming lands Who roamed into the gold of Egypt’s sun The spirit who travailed on its sands, It looks as if the boon of glory’s womb Had come to stow the image of your tomb © 2014 Gleb Zavlanov