Guinnevere

Dilectisimmae puellae

... blanca y última señora
de todos los caballeros.
(Rafael Sánchez Mazas)

GUINNEVERE
(Crosby, Still & Nash, 1969)

Guinnevere
had green eyes
like yours, mi'lady, like yours
when she'd walk down
through the garden
in the morning after it rained.
Peacocks wandered aimlessly
underneath an orange tree.
Why can't she see me?

Guinnevere
drew pentagrams
like yours, mi'lady, like yours,
late at night
when she thought
that no one was watching at all
on the wall.
She shall be free
as she turns her gaze
down the slope
to the harbor where I lay
anchored for a day.

Guinnevere
had golden hair
like yours, mi'lady, like yours.
Streaming out when we'd ride
through the warm wind down by the bay
yesterday.
Seagulls circle endlessly,
I sing in silent harmony.
We shall be free.