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Thursday, October 3, 2013

Clouds (Pessoa)

On this sad day my heart sadder than the day ...
Moral and civic obligations?
The intricate web of duties, of consequences?
No, nothing ...
A sad day, an apathy toward everything ...
Nothing ...

Others travel (I've also traveled), others are in the sun
(I've also been in the sun, or imagined I was),
Others have purpose, or life, or symmetrical ignorance,
Vanity, happiness, and sociability,
And they emigrate to return one day, or not to return,
On ships that simply transport them.
They don't feel the death that lurks in every departure,
The mystery behind every arrival,
The horror within everything new ...
They don't feel: that's why they're commissioners and
Go dancing and work as office employees,
Go to shows and meet people ...
They don't feel--why should they?

Let these clothed cattle from the stables of the Gods
Go cheerfully by, decked with garlands for the sacrifice,
Warmed by the sun, cheerful, lively, and content to feel what
    they feel ...
Let them go, but alas, I'm going with them without a garland
To the same destination!

I'm going with them without the sun I feel, without the life
    I have,
I'm going with them without ignorance ...

On this sad day my heart sadder than the day ...
On this sad day every day ...
On this very sad day ...

(Alvaro De Campos) 13 May 1928

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