I well remember his look.
Cross
still my soul Like a trail of fire in the night.
I remember his eyes. The rest ...
Yes, the rest is only a semblance of life.
Yesterday I walked the streets like any person. I looked at the windows
carefree And I met friends with whom to talk.
Suddenly I felt sad, deathly sad, so sad
that I found
can not live another day, not because I could die or kill
but only because it would be impossible to live the next day and this is everything.
smoke, dream, lying on the chair.
I regret living in a situation discomfort. They must be
islands to the south of the things
Where suffering is something sweeter,
costs less to live with the thought,
and where you can close your eyes and fall asleep in the sun
and wake up without having to think about social responsibility or the
day of the month or week it is today. Do
asylum in me as an enemy that I fear to offend, too spontaneous
a heart that feels as if all that dream was real
accompanying the melody with the foot of the songs that he sings my thoughts, sad
songs, like the narrow streets when it rains.
Fernando Pessoa
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