This Poem by Fernando Pessoa
This
They say I pretend or lie
All I write. No such thing.
It simply is that I
Feel by imagining.
I don't use the heart-string.
All that I dream or lose,
That falls short or dies on me,
Is like a terrace which looks
On another thing beyond.
It's that thing leads me on.
And so I write in the middle
Of things not next one's feet,
Free from my own muddle,
Concerned for what is not.
Feel? Let the reader feel!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 10:47:45 AM # 1.0.0.1119
