by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792 - 1822)
Translation by Richard Flatter (1891 - 1960)

I met a traveller from an antique land
Language: English 
Available translation(s): ITA
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast [and]1 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]2 Ozimandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing besides remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

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Confirmed with The Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley, Volume 2, London, George Bell & Sons, 1892, page 294.

1 omitted by Manno.
2 Manno: "I am"

Authorship

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:

  • Also set in German (Deutsch), a translation by E. von Griesbach , "Ozymandias" ; composed by Max Wiedmann.
  • Also set in Russian (Русский), a translation by Konstantin Dmitrevich Bal'mont (1867 - 1942) , "Озимандия", first published 1896 ; composed by Leonid Leonidovich Lisovsky, Borys Mykolayovych Lyatoshynsky, Aleksandr Afanasievich Spendiarov.

Other available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 14
Word count: 111

Größe
Language: German (Deutsch)  after the English 
Ein Mann, zurück aus längst vergeßnem Land,
Erzählt: Zwei Riesenbeine, Stein, des Leibs beraubt,
Stehn in der Wüste. Nah dabei im Sand,
Zerschmettert, halb versunken, liegt ein Haupt.

Auf krause Lippen ist ein Stolz gebannt,
Ein höhnisch kaltes Lächeln; wer es sieht,
Weiß, wer einst herrschte über dies Gebiet
Mit kaltem Herzen und mit harter Hand.

Und auf dem Sockel liest man eingebrannt:
„Ich bin Ormandis, aller Fürsten Fürst.
Schaut, was ich schuf, ihr Großen, und verzweifelt!“

Nichts blieb als dies. Vom Himmelsrund umspannt,
Streckt sich die Wüste hin, endlos und leer,
Und nur der Sand streicht um die Trümmer her.

Confirmed with Die Fähre, Englische Lyrik aus fünf Jahrhunderten Übersetzt von Richard Flatter, Walter Krieg Verlag, Wien-Bad Bocklet-Zürich, 1954, 2nd edition (1st edition 1936), page 156.


Authorship

Based on

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

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Researcher for this text: Volkmar Henschel

This text was added to the website: 2021-02-25
Line count: 14
Word count: 101