I’m ceded — I’ve stopped being Theirs —
The name They dropped upon my face
With water, in the country church
Is finished using, now,
And They can put it with my Dolls,
My childhood, and the string of spools,
I’ve finished threading — too —

Baptized, before, without the choice,
But this time, consciously, of Grace —
Unto supremest name —
Called to my Full — The Crescent dropped —
Existence’s whole Arc, filled up,
With one small Diadem.

My second Rank — too small the first —
Crowned — Crowing — on my Father’s breast —
A half unconscious Queen —
But this time — Adequate — Erect,
With Will to choose, or to reject,
And I choose, just a Crown —

In the days of old in La Mancha land,
Lived a noble knight, his quest so grand,
Don Quixote, brave and true,
With his faithful squire, the world they'd view.

Oh, Don Quixote, man of dreams,
Gallant knight of noble schemes,
With lance and shield, he rides so bold,
In tales of chivalry, his story's told.

With armour rusted and heart so pure,
To right all wrongs, his oath was sure,
On Rocinante, his steed so tall,
He'd fight for honour, justice for all.

Through windmills' arms, he'd charge with might,
Mistaking them for giants in the night,
For love of Dulcinea, his lady fair,
In every deed, she was always there.

By inns and taverns, through fields of gold,
He sought adventures, stories to unfold,
With Sancho Panza, his loyal friend,
By his side until the very end.

With wisdom simple, Sancho tried,
To show the truth where folly lied,
But Quixote’s vision, noble and grand,
Saw only the magic in every land.

From castle halls to gypsy camps,
Through starry nights and misty damps,
They journeyed far, both near and wide,
With dreams and hopes, their only guide.

In battles fought and kindness shown,
A legend grew, their fame had grown,
Though mocked by many, loved by few,
Their spirits high, their hearts so true.

But time must take its final toll,
As dreams fade out and truths unfold,
Quixote, weary, laid down his arms,
Returning home from distant charms.

In peace he rested, his quest now done,
A hero's journey, a life well-spun,
And though he's gone, his tale remains,
A beacon bright through joy and pains.

So sing we now of Quixote's fight,
A knight of old with heart so light,
In every heart his dream shall stay,
A timeless tale of Don Quixote's way.