My Fair Guinevere

Guinevere from the moon and dreams
Running toward to the winds seeking for someone
Waiting for someone
Lady of the dreams who flies upstairs the highest castles
Lady who asleeps between the medieval shadows and flute sounds.
Lady of the flame hair who burns the wheat-tree, who keeps the hearts,
Swing the letters and teases the poetry.

My Guinevere

Wake up, with Guineveres image

And in a gust throw me to the past.

--Where, between little streets and fairies being,

flutes and wars, live that lady?

A nostalgic song whisper in the castle;

from stones of fire, medieval burnt.

In a wound fight between good and evil;

Im wandering to seek the missing link.

Call for Guinevere, the queen

Ask for some people, one by one.

Nothing, about her, nobody knows, however.

Back to the present, covered in a thick mist

And i see her, ahead me, lovely:

That's Guinevere, my queen, just mine