Immortality, of a kind

I recall once as a child, thinking about immortality.  The spiritual kind is appealing, of course, but I wondered how one could leave one's mark.  Poetry I thought, would be good.  Ozymandius' kingdom passed from the world, but Shelley's poem promises to be around for a good long time.  A good poem I thought, is probably the best shot at having your name handed down through the ages.

So I was interested to hear in the 'In Our Time' podcast about the Shahnameh of Ferdowsi that the author wrote

I suffered in thirty long span; by Persian language I remade Iran ... Since I have sown the seeds of living words, I shall not die but henceforth must remain.

He confesses to mixed motivations - sure I preserved the culture of a people, but I also made sure you know my name.  And we do.

Sweet mausoleum, too

But Shakespeare did him one better:

Not marble nor the gilded monuments

Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme,

But you shall shine more bright in these contents

Than unswept stone besmeared with sluttish time.

Rap on, brother.