Fernando Pessoa

Fernando Pessoa

1,000 карма
United Kingdom (Great Britain)

Sonnet XI

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Like to a ship that storms urge on its course,
By its own trials our soul is surer made
The very things that make the voyage
Do make it better; its peril is its aid
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Sonnet XX

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When in the widening circle of
To a new flesh my travelled soul shall come,
And try again the unremembered
With the old sadness for the immortal home,
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Sonnet XV

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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,
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I Have a Terrible Cold

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I have a terrible cold,
And everyone knows how terrible
Alter the whole system of the universe,
Set us against life,
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Sonnet XXI

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Thought was born blind, but Thought knows what is seeing
Its careful touch, deciphering forms from shapes,
Still suggests form as aught whose proper
Mere finding touch with erring darkness drapes
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As She Passes

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When I am sitting at the window,
Through the panes, which the snow blurs,
I see the lovely images, hers,
She passes… passes… passes by…Over me grief has thrown its veil:-Less a creature in this
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Sonnet XXXIV

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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,
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