Looking from the beach before the first sip from a hot java potion, you will see it giving the morning sun a big jawn or it is his last scream facing death?
You should be the judge.

On the end of a cap with is mouth open
he’s taken by surprise by the rising sun,
as he lies down snoring perhaps on the bay
after terrorizing of superstitious, their night.

Some said, “that’s not a sleeping Cyclops”
long ago he was of Mallorca’s the only one,
which Ulysses on his passing boat never saw
because encountering it was the end of man.

The legend says that a much brave soldier
came riding his Rosinante from mainland,
wearing the battle-name of “Don Quixote”
with a long lance always pointing at the sky.

Windmills, giants, monsters and Cyclops,
nothing Don Quixote wouldn’t be fit to fight,
maybe it is true , Polyphemus is not sleeping
but is dead by the lance of just one brave man.