This by Fernando Pessoa

They say I pretend or lie

All I write. No such thing.

It simply is that I

Feel by imagining.

I don’t use the heart-string.

 

All that I dream or lose,

That falls short or dies on me.

Is like a terrace which looks

On another thing beyond.

It’s that thing leads me on.

 

And so I write in the middle

Of things not next one’s feet,

Free from my own muddle,

Concerned for what is not.

Feel? Let the reader feel!

 

by Fernando Pessoa

(1888-1935), Portugal

translated by Jonathon Griffin after the Portuguese of Fernando Pessoa