Horner's Corner

Archive for October 8th, 2009

From a Notebook that Never Was by Fernando Pessoa

by on Oct.08, 2009, under literature, poetry

From a Notebook that Never Was

The ridiculous, work, and dedication.

by Fernando Pessoa

pessoa

Asterisks separate the short, autonomous prose pieces that follow. None was written in a notebook (see the longer note at the end for information on the author’s real notebooks). Some of the original manuscripts contain alternate words or phrases between the lines or in the margins; I have used the word or phrase I find most appealing for the translation. Lacunae and unfinished sentences—frequent inPessoa’s posthumously revealed work—are indicated by six dots: “. . . . . .”.—RZ

 
I always acted on the inside . . . I never touched life . . . Whenever I began to trace an action, I finished it in my dreams, heroically . . . A sword weighs more than the idea of a sword . . . I commanded large armies, won great battles, savored huge defeats—all inside me . . . I enjoyed strolling alone through green parks and down wide corridors, issuing commands to the trees and challenges to the hanging portraits . . . In the wide and dusky corridor that’s at the back of the palace I often strolled with my fiancée . . . I never had a real fiancée . . . I never knew how to love . . . I only knew how to dream of loving . . . If I liked to wear ladies’ rings on my fingers, it’s because I sometimes supposed that my hands belonged to a princess and that I, at least in the motions of my hands, was the woman I loved . . . One day I was found dressed up as a queen . . . I was dreaming I was my royal wife . . . I liked to see my face reflected, for I could dream it was someone else’s face—namely that of my beloved, since the reflection I saw denoted feminine features . . . How often my lips touched my lips in a mirror! . . . How often I clasped one of my hands with the other, or fondled my hair with my hand I’d become strange to, as if it were her hand touching me. It isn’t me who’s telling you this . . . Who’s speaking is what’s left of me.

More here:

From a Notebook that Never Was by Fernando Pessoa : Poetry Magazine [article/magazine].

Leave a Comment : more...

Looking for something?

Use the form below to search the site:

Still not finding what you're looking for? Drop a comment on a post or contact us so we can take care of it!

Visit our friends!

A few highly recommended friends...

SEO Booster Lite