Classic Poem

In the calmness of graven stone —
Graven without
By the forces that carve the world.
Hardened within
By the hardness born of negation —
By the intricate contradiction
Of every line of advance,

She waits — she has waited long
Many have come and guessed
And the only answer is death
Many have never dared —
And most of all pass by
Seeing no riddle there.

A sphynx with a riddle old —
A sphynx of graven stone
Calm are the quiet eyes
Calm is the quiet mouth
Calm is the breast of stone.
And the great limbs of the breast
Are still as the hills at night.