I bear one thousand faces on my head,
And on my hips the ancient leaders lie.
My halls still hold the faces of the dead,
The worthy ones to be immortalized.
To the north the life of Christ was lived,
And to the south Moses’s trials took place;
Our God created Adam in my midst;
I am adorned with silver at my base.
As long as this earth lives I shall not die
Oh, student of the ancients, what am I?
touchstone poetry 