I read how Quixote in his random ride
Came to a crossing once, and lest he lose
The purity of chance, would not decide

Whither to fare, but wished his horse to choose.
For glory lay wherever turned the fable.
His head was light with pride, his horse's shoes

Were heavy, and he headed for the stable.

Richard Wilbur

Read poems about / on: horse, pride, light, lost

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Walter Durk (10/1/2007 7:28:00 PM)
I like the rhythm of this piece.

Robert Howard (12/24/2006 1:52:00 PM)
I agree with the horse. Going home is glorious.

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10/6/2008 9:01:42 AM. You Are Here: Parable by Richard Wilbur