“Sir,” said Perceval, “for five
Full years I haven’t known
Where I was, or believed in God,
Or loved Him. All I have done
Was evil.” “Good friend,” said the hermit,
“Tell me why this happened,
And pray God to have mercy
On your sinful soul.” “Sir,
Once I was at the Fisher King’s
Castle, and I saw – the bleeding lance,
And seeing that drop of blood
On the bright white of its point,
I never asked what or why.
There are no amends I can make.
And when I saw a holy
Grail, I had no idea
For whom it was meant, and said nothing.
And ever since I’ve felt
Such sadness that I wished to die;
I forgot about God and never
Prayed for his grace and mercy
Or did what I should to deserve it.”
“Ah,” said the hermit. “Good friend,
Now you must tell me your name.”
And he answered, “Perceval, sir.”
And hearing this, the hermit
Sighed, for he knew that name,
And said, “Brother, this comes
From a sin of which you know nothing…”
– Perceval, Chretien de Troyes (6365 – 6394)
photo: New Mexico, September 2017
Edge of Atlantic 