Your spirit, and my spirit, and that one
Who stands between us; and I see the realm,
I dreamed to make one flawless crystal, cracked
To fragments; and the loss, the waste. But now
I am come, through anguish and against my will,
Into a light that shows me what I am,
And where I go, and what endures beyond.
Were it not for the pain, I had not known.
In ignorance we tear each other’s hearts.
Know you, Gawaine is gone, dead of his wound?