A Canto a Day 5 Spenser: Ruines of Rome

Thou stranger, which for Rome in Rome here seekest,
And nought of Rome in Rome perceiv'st at all,
These same olde walls, olde arches, which thou seest,
Olde Palaces, is that which Rome men call.
Behold what wreake, what ruine and what wast,
And how that she, which with her mightie powre
Tam'd all the world, hath tam'd herself at last,
The pray of time, which all things doth devoure.
Rome now of Rome is th'onely funerall,
And only Rome of Rome hath victorie;
Ne ought save Tyber hastning to his fall
Remaines of alll: O world's inconstancie.
That which is firme doth flit and fall away,
And that is flitting, doth abide and stay.

This is a translation by Edmund Spenser of poem 3 of Les Antiquitez by Joachim Du Bellay, and one of the best translations of anything there's ever been, I would say.

There's little to be said about it: the intent and structure of the poem go together so well, and although the theme of impermanence is familiar it's never been quite so well expressed. Well done, Mr Spenser. 

Nouveau venu qui cherches Rome en Rome
Et rien de Rome en Rome n’apperçois,
Ces vieux palais, ces vieux arcs que tu vois,
Et ces vieux murs, c’est ce que Rome on nomme.
Voy quel orgueil, quelle ruine, et comme
Celle qui mist le monde sous ses lois
Pour donter tout, se donta quelquefois,
Et devint proye au temps qui tout consomme.
Rome de Rome est le seul monument,
Et Rome Rome a vaincu seulement.
Le Tybre seul, qui vers la mer s’enfuit,
Reste de Rome, ô mondaine inconstance !
Ce qui est ferme est par le temps destruit,
Et ce qui fuit, au temps fait resistance.