You don't know what it was like
condemn from fickle legend
It is nothing that his own great folly
dimmed his vision

There is no mention, my yearning
hunger for a man's touch
while he rode the land
and flesh as well
He neglected my arms
when he knew he had a son
Until the prophesy, that is
Then, oh yes,
       then
I was honored, the pure
held although I couldn't be sown
Barren, I, Guenevar
       signaled the beginning of his end

When it came to my own folly
my temptation
after living with a ghost of former glories
I was not forgiven
Punished before the fall and ever since

Was I rebuked for searching out younger love
when land and womb lacked fruit
Or was it that I prevailed
       while a king sunk into the mire