Author Information
La Mancha
Chivalry for the lady
Who feels her uncle's strain
Over scattered highways
He parades across the plains
Descendant of the table
Lost among the hours
He tames his horse and carries out
his righteous task of valor
At his right without a shake
His squire follows close
Above his mule he says one word
And his wit betrays his ghost
The distance opens to their gaze
As if frightened by their charge
Revealed to them a giant's rage
As he swings his heavy arms
They rush, they strike, they call their hope
They tumble to the grass
The giant's strength is unmatched
And its wind has come to pass
Retreat must now embrace them all
As they lumber to a halt
Defeated by a beastly rock
With its skin that tastes of salt
But the hero stands on steady feet
His spirit strong above his head
He points his spear towards the stars
And the lightning strikes him dead.
