We create what we don't have
Because we're sorry it's missing,
And whatever we long to see
Is what we end up seeing.
Later, tired of that vision
Which sees only what's unreal,
We shut up all the windows
And in our souls are sealed.
Although the vision is gone
The figures that took part
Still dance, and in great number,
But only inside our heart.
June 9th 1934
Fernando Pessoa
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June 3rd 2024
I know what I love about poetry, and Pessoa encapsulates all of it. I know I can't be him. But if I can try to emulate even a fraction of what he offers in language... I'll be better off. I don't know what it is about him. He was so fucking far far ahead of his time. How does a genius like him happen, and go unfettered, unnoticed for his imagination of superfluous level. I know I want to create and change the world. But Pessoa is on that level. He can't be touched. He is in a league of his own. Yet it's not mainstream. The translation is lost on these terms. I've studied him and on a mainstream conscious level not even a whisper? It's unfair.
How do we NOT know when we may be in contact with genius of his obviously higher dimension. Fail to connect with it??
- Marco
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