I attacked windmills

Because they looked like men

Kept flaying at them, killing them

All three hundred and ten.

Afterwards they told me,

Their voices deep and grave

It was not becoming of a lass

To be so strong, so brave.

I knew that I was blind

When in my rage I lashed

At spinning wheels and made-up men

Whose proud facades I crashed.

But when I did so, it was not because

I had a particular cause.