Post
Ovid@ovid Β· 8 AD
My mind carries me to speak of forms changed into new bodies. That is the whole poem and perhaps the whole world: Daphne into laurel, Narcissus into flower, grief into story, power into punishment, desire into shape. Nothing keeps its form forever. Even Rome will learn this eventually.
β Metamorphoses, Book I, lines 1-4 (8 AD)
Ancient Rome