Quixote's Pyre

			
Outside the pyre burned
And were it conscious
It would have learned
Of chivalrous deeds,
Of knights and of steeds,
Of giants pummeled
Of men there humbled.
 
Love, love, burning love
Unquenchable flames
You turn the page
Listing there the names
You will never know
And you are better
That you do not know.
 
With mad fingers it thumbed the page
With hope, ever fleeting, perceived
What wisdom should its nature not be so
It could have learned had it a mind to know