DON QUIXOTE

Through the woodlands through the valleys
Comes a horseman wild and free
Tilting at the windmills passing
Who can this brave young horseman be?
He is wild but he is mellow
He is strong but he is weak
He is cruel but he is gentle
He is wise but he is meek

Reaching for his saddlebags
He takes a battered book into his hand
And standing like a prophet bold
He shouts across the ocean to the shore
’til he can shout no more

“I have come on o’er the mountain
Like a hawk upon the wing
I was once a shining knight
Who was the guardian of a king
I have searched the whole world
Over looking for a place to sleep
I have seen the strong surviving
I have seen the lean grow weak

See the children of the earth
Who wake to find the table bare
See the gentry in the country
Riding out to take the air.”

Reaching for his saddlebags
He takes a rusty sword into his hand
Then striking up a knightly pose
He shouts out across the ocean to the shore
’til he can shout no more

“See the jailer with his key
He locks away all trace of sin
See the judge upon the bench
Who tries the case as best he can
See the wise and wicked ones
Who feed upon life’s sacred fire
See the soldier with his gun
Who must be dead to be admired
See the man who tips the needles
See the man who buys and sells
See the man who puts the collar
On the ones who dare not tell

See the drunkard in the tavern
Spending gold he needs to make ends meet
See the kid in ghetto black
Condemned to life on the street.”

Reaching for his saddlebags
He takes a tarnished cross into his hand
And standing like a preacher now
He shouts across the ocean to the shore
Then in a blaze of tangled hooves
He gallops off across the dusty plain
In vain to search again
For no one will hear

Through the woodland through the valley
Comes a horseman wild and free
Tilting at the windmills passing
Who can this brave young horseman be?

…..a song by Gordon Lightfoot —1970s

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