Jim Warren, Painted worlds, Child play

If, after I die, they should want to write my biography,
There's nothing simpler.
I've just two dates - of my birth, and of my death.
In between the one thing and the other all the days are
         mine.

I am easy to describe.
I lived like mad.
I loved things without any sentimentality.
I never had a desire I could not fulfil, because
          I never went blind.
Even hearing was to me never more than an
          accompaniment of seeing.
I understood that things are real and all different from
          each other;
I understood it with the eyes, never with thinking.
To understand it with thinking would be to find them
          all equal.

One day I felt sleepy like a child.
I closed my eyes and slept.
And by the way, I was only Nature poet.

 (?)

'Selected Poems'  Fernando Pessoa, 
 translated by J. Griffin.

There are fallen angels in the way you look
    And great bridges over silent streams's at' your smile.
Your gestures are lonely princess dreaming over a book
    At a window over a lake, on some distant isle.

If I were to  stretch my lands and touch yours that would be
    Dawn behind the turrets of a city in some East.
The words in my gestura would .
    Of your being something in my soul like gaety on a fiest? stretch my hand

Let your silence tell me of numberless dreams that are you
    Let the drooping of your eyelids prolong landsacapes far away.

Read "The keeper of Sheep"►

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