If After I Die
If, after I die, they should want to write my biography,
There's nothing simpler.
I've just two dates - of my birth, and of my death.
In between the one thing and the other all the days aremine.
I am easy to describe.
I lived like mad.
I loved things without any sentimentality.
I never had a desire I could not fulfil, becauseI never went blind.
Even hearing was to me never more than anaccompaniment of seeing.
I understood that things are real and all different fromeach other;
I understood it with the eyes, never with thinking.
To understand it with thinking would be to find themall equal.
One day I felt sleepy like a child.
I closed my eyes and slept.
And by the way,
I was only Nature poet.written under the pen name of Alberto Caeiro
Fernando Pessoa
Other author posts
Sonnet XV
Like a bad suitor desperate and From the mixed sense of being not loved and loving, Who with feared longing half would know, With what he'd wish proved what he fears soon proving,
Sonnet XXXIV
Happy the maimed, the halt, the mad, the blind--All who, stamped separate by curtailing birth, Owe no duty's allegiance to Nor stand a valuing in their scheme of worth But I, whom Fate, not Nature, did curtail,
Sonnet VII
Thy words are torture to me, that scarce grieve thee--That entire death shall null my entire thought; And I feel torture, not that I believe thee, But that I cannot disbelieve thee not Shall that of me that now contains the
Sonnet X
As to a child, I talked my heart With empty promise of the coming day, And it slept rather for my words made