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    35 Sonnets
    35 Sonnets
    35 Sonnets
    Ebook74 pages21 minutes

    35 Sonnets

    By Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa

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    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 26, 2013
    35 Sonnets

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      Book preview

      35 Sonnets - Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of 35 Sonnets by Fernando Pessoa

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org/license

      Title: 35 Sonnets

      Author: Fernando Pessoa

      Release Date: November 30, 2006 [Ebook #19978]

      Language: English

      ***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 35 SONNETS***

      35 Sonnets

      by Fernando Pessoa

      Edition 1, (November 30, 2006)

      I.

      Whether we write or speak or do but look

      We are ever unapparent. What we are

      Cannot be transfused into word or book.

      Our soul from us is infinitely far.

      However much we give our thoughts the will

      To be our soul and gesture it abroad,

      Our hearts are incommunicable still.

      In what we show ourselves we are ignored.

      The abyss from soul to soul cannot be bridged

      By any skill of thought or trick of seeming.

      Unto our very selves we are abridged

      When we would utter to our thought our being.

      We are our dreams of ourselves, souls by gleams,

      And each to each other dreams of others' dreams.

      II.

      If that apparent part of life's delight

      Our tingled flesh-sense circumscribes were seen

      By aught save reflex and co-carnal sight,

      Joy, flesh and life might prove but a gross screen.

      Haply Truth's body is no eyable being,

      Appearance even as appearance lies,

      Haply our close, dark, vague, warm sense of seeing

      Is the choked vision of blindfolded eyes.

      Wherefrom what comes to thought's sense of life? Nought.

      All is either the irrational world we see

      Or some aught-else whose being-unknown doth rot

      Its use for our thought's use. Whence taketh me

      A qualm-like ache of life, a body-deep

      Soul-hate of what we seek and what we weep.

      [pg 002]

      III.

      When I do think my meanest line shall be

      More in Time's use than my creating whole,

      That future eyes more clearly shall feel me

      In this inked page than in my direct soul;

      When I conjecture put to make me seeing

      Good readers of me

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