To Arthur Pendragon Poem by Gert Strydom
To Arthur Pendragon
Now many centuries after his death
I know that there had never been a king
that on this earth did breath
who by his valour and nobility had my heart rising
as Arthur of Camelot, Arthur of the round table did
and although his sword Excalibur forever stays hid
through centuries his tales remains as the token of chivalry
and somehow there is truth and a kind of magic to it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 10:36:05 AM # 1.0.0.1119
