Sacked by the Sacas,
Who left me, a hermaic,
Bearded old man with a staff,
Perhaps a philosopher,
In the rubble of the great
Gymnasium, the ornate
Jewel of Bactria
Was never rebuilt.
What does not survive must be
Excavated. All the gods,
Tyrants and nomads
Who flowered in this desert
Beside the Oxus
Withered as well. I remained.
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