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Amigos w/ Common Interests
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October 12, 2004
Category: Sub Category: Poetry |
"Autopsicografia"
O poeta é um fingidor.
Finge tão completamente
Que chega a fingir que é dor
A dor que deveras sente.
E os que lêem o que escreve,
Na dor lida sentem bem,
Não as duas que ele teve,
Mas só que éles não têm.
E assim nas calhas de roda
Gira, a entreter a razão
Ésse comboio de corda
Que se chama o coração
—Fernando Pessoa
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The poet is a faker. He
Fakes it so completely,
He even fakes he's suffering
The pain he's really feeling.
And those of us who read his writing
Fully feel while reading
Not that pain of his that's double,
But one completely fictional.
So on its tracks goes round and round,
To entertain the reason,
That wound-up little train
We call the heart of man.
translated by Edwin Honig
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My Amigos
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_jojo
Oct 12, 2004
Sao Paulo, Brazil
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cesar
Oct 09, 2004
sao paulo, Brazil
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