I met a trainer 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 SUZERAIN, KING OF KINGS;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and DESPAIR!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that beloved project, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands…
stretch far away."
But i a trainer myself went to visit this place .i found what was said …nothing.except there was something. Something that had not died… a flower blossomed in that place i call this flower:
memory.