Don Quixote

by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra

Of the Good Fortune which the Valiant Don Quixote had in the Terrible and Undreamt-of Adventure of the Windmills, with Other Occurrences Worthy to Be Fitly Recorded At this point they came in sight of thirty forty windmills that there are on plain, and as soon as Don Quixote saw them he said to his squire, “Fortune is arranging matters for us better than we could have shaped our desires ourselves, for look there, friend Sancho Panza, where thirty or more monstrous giants present themselves, all of whom I mean to engage in battle and slay, and with whose spoils we shall begin to make our fortunes; for this is righteous warfare, and it is God’s good service to sweep so evil a breed from off the face of the earth.” “What giants?” said Sancho Panza. “Those thou seest there,” answered his master, “with the long arms, and some have them nearly two leagues long.” “Look, your worship,” said Sancho; “what we see there are not giants but windmills, and what seem to be their arms are the sails that turned by the wind make the millstone go.” “It is easy to see,” replied Don Quixote, “that thou art not used to this business of adventures; those are giants; and if thou art afraid, away with thee out of this and betake thyself to prayer while I engage them in fierce and unequal combat.” So saying, he gave the spur to his steed Rocinante, heedless of the cries his squire Sancho sent after him, warning him that most certainly they were windmills and not giants he was going to attack. He, h...

### Haiku: Windmills on the plain, Giants in Quixote's mind—charge, But wind sweeps him down. --- ### Limerick: There once was a knight, full of might, Who saw giants where windmills took flight. He charged with his lance, But failed in his stance, And Rocinante fell from the fight. --- ### Petrarchan Sonnet: Upon the plain where windmills turned with grace, Brave Quixote saw great giants rise to war. His squire, Sancho, warned with cries implore, Yet madness veiled the truth before his face. With lance in hand, he spurred to meet the chase, And into battle charged with fervent roar, But wind and sail conspired to topple more, And down he fell, defeated by his race. Yet still he blamed the hand of fate’s cruel sage, That tricked his mind and stole his righteous fight. In foolish pride, he vowed to find again, Another foe, to conquer in his rage. But Sancho knew, with truth in simple sight, 'Twas wind, not war, that sent them to their end. Chat gpt