'I happened on a traveller from an old land saying: Two great severed legs of stone, they sit in the desolation. Next to them on the sand, half buried, sits a broken face, whose frown and crooked lips and sneer of pitiless authority testify that the maker read well that emotion, imprinted onto this unliving thing, which still survives the hand that imitated it and the heart that fed. Apart from this, visible on the pedestal is this utterance. My name is The-Righteousness-of-the-Sun-is-Authoritative, the crown-bearer of crown-bearers. Look, you mastering ones, at my work, and despair! Nothing besides remains. Around the brokenness of that great ruin, boundlessly, desolately, the lone flat sand stretches far away.'