November 30, 1935. Edgy, tossing and turning in bed, Pessoa is burning with fever.
Não sou nada.
Nunca serei nada.
Não posso querer ser nada.
À parte isso, tenho em mim todos os sonhos do mundo.
Estou hoje vencido, como se soubesse a verdade.
Estou hoje lúcido, como se estivesse para morrer.
The chaplain tries to calm him down. He insists on calling out the names of Caeiro, Reis, Campos and Soares. Then he readies himself for a last glance at his creation. They haven’t arrived yet. But I can feel that they are coming. Oh, yes, they are coming.
Caeiro, Reis, Campos and Soares rush into the room. But they are too late, the poet is dead. There remain only a few notes scribbled on a piece of paper:
I made of myself something beyond my knowledge,
And what I could make of myself I failed to do.
The domino costume that I wore was all wrong.
They immediately took me for someone I was not
and I didn t deny it, and I was lost.
When I tried to take off the mask,
It was stuck to my face.
When I took it off and looked in the mirror,
I had grown old,
I was drunk, and I didn t know how to put on
the costume that I had not taken off.
I threw the mask away and slept
in the dressing room
As a dog tolerated by the management
because he’s harmless.
And I"m going to write this story to prove
that I"m sublime
Fiz de mim o que não soube
E o que podia fazer de mim não o fiz.
O dominó que vesti era errado.
Conheceram-me logo por quem não era e não desmenti, e perdi-me.
Quando quis tirar a máscara,
Estava pegada à cara.
Quando a tirei e me vi ao espelho,
Já tinha envelhecido.
Estava bêbado, já não sabia vestir o dominó que não tinha tirado.
Deitei fora a máscara e dormi no vestiário
Como um cão tolerado pela gerência
Por ser inofensivo
E vou escrever esta história para provar que sou sublime.
I am nothing
I shall never be anything
I cannot wish to be anything.
Aside from that, I hold within me
all the dreams of the world.
Today, I’m defeated, as if I’d learned the truth.
Today, I am lucid, as if I were about to die.
Não sou nada.
Nunca serei nada.
Não posso querer ser nada.
À parte isso, tenho em mim todos os sonhos do mundo.
Estou hoje vencido, como se soubesse a verdade.
Estou hoje lúcido, como se estivesse para morrer.
The chaplain tries to calm him down. He insists on calling out the names of Caeiro, Reis, Campos and Soares. Then he readies himself for a last glance at his creation. They haven’t arrived yet. But I can feel that they are coming. Oh, yes, they are coming.
Caeiro, Reis, Campos and Soares rush into the room. But they are too late, the poet is dead. There remain only a few notes scribbled on a piece of paper:
I made of myself something beyond my knowledge,
And what I could make of myself I failed to do.
The domino costume that I wore was all wrong.
They immediately took me for someone I was not
and I didn t deny it, and I was lost.
When I tried to take off the mask,
It was stuck to my face.
When I took it off and looked in the mirror,
I had grown old,
I was drunk, and I didn t know how to put on
the costume that I had not taken off.
I threw the mask away and slept
in the dressing room
As a dog tolerated by the management
because he’s harmless.
And I"m going to write this story to prove
that I"m sublime
Fiz de mim o que não soube
E o que podia fazer de mim não o fiz.
O dominó que vesti era errado.
Conheceram-me logo por quem não era e não desmenti, e perdi-me.
Quando quis tirar a máscara,
Estava pegada à cara.
Quando a tirei e me vi ao espelho,
Já tinha envelhecido.
Estava bêbado, já não sabia vestir o dominó que não tinha tirado.
Deitei fora a máscara e dormi no vestiário
Como um cão tolerado pela gerência
Por ser inofensivo
E vou escrever esta história para provar que sou sublime.
Fernando Pessoa / Álvaro de Campos .
Tabacaria .
Tobacco Shop .
0 comments on "It's too late for a reunion, the poet is dead !"
Subscribe in a Reader
Post a Comment