The Old Temple Poem by Andrew W.K. Yip
The Old Temple
This mighty temple, oldest in the land -
First it stood as a thatched hut on the sand,
Rebuilt as a holy edifice for the ultimate rest
Of deities whose altars burnt bright to bless.
Times changed; temporal forces now rule the day.
Muses or deities, eternal or divine, all gone away.
Where piety and the temple stood and where history began,
Rests a grand museum for the immortality of men.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/24/2024 2:36:02 PM # 1.0.0.1119
