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A DAY OF SUN

A DAY OF SUN

 

I love the things that children love

        Yet with a comprehension deep

That lifts my pining soul above

        Those in which life as yet doth sleep.

 

All things that simple are and bright,

        Unnoticed unto keen‑worn wit,

With a child's natural delight

        That makes me proudly weep at it.

 

I love the sun with personal glee,

        The air as if I could embrace

Its wideness with my soul and be

        A drunkard by expense of gaze.

 

I love the heavens with a joy

        That makes me wonder at my soul,

It is a pleasure nought can cloy,

        A thrilling I cannot control.

 

So stretched out here let me lie

        Before the sun that soaks me up,

And let me gloriously die

        Drinking too deep of living's cup;

 

Be swallowed of the sun and spread

        Over the infinite expanse,

Dissolved, like a drop of dew dead

        Lost in a super‑normal trance;

 

Lost in impersonal consciousness

        And mingling in all life become

A selfless part of Force and Stress

        And have a universal home;

 

And in a strange way undefined

Lose in the one and living Whole

The limit that I call my mind,

The bounded thing I call my soul.

17-3-1908

Poesia Inglesa. Fernando Pessoa. (Organização e tradução de Luísa Freire. Prefácio de Teresa Rita Lopes.) Lisboa: Livros Horizonte, 1995.

 - 172.

Destinado ao volume «Delirium».