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| Genre/Form: | Translations Poetry Translations into English |
|---|---|
| Named Person: | Fernando Pessoa; Fernando Pessoa; Fernando Pessoa |
| Document Type: | Book |
| All Authors / Contributors: |
Fernando Pessoa; Richard Zenith |
| ISBN: | 0802116280 9780802116284 0802136273 9780802136275 |
| OCLC Number: | 38055974 |
| Awards: | Winner of Literary Award (Poetry in Translation) 1999 |
| Description: | xiv, 290 pages ; 22 cm |
| Contents: | Introduction: The Drama and Dream of Fernando Pessoa -- Alberto Caeiro: The Unwitting Master -- I've never kept sheep -- My gaze is clear like a sunflower -- To not think of anything is metaphysics enough -- I'm a keeper of sheep -- Hello, keeper of sheep -- I'd rather be the dust of the road -- The Tagus is more beautiful than the river that flows through my village -- My gaze, blue like the sky -- What we see of things are the things -- Yesterday afternoon a man from the cities -- Like a large blot of smudged fire -- Blessed be the same sun of other lands -- The mystery of things -- where is it? -- I see a butterfly go by -- The coach came down the road, and went on -- On an incredibly clear day -- Before I had you -- Perhaps those who are good at seeing are poor at feeling -- The shepherd in love lost his staff -- To see the fields and the river -- When Spring returns -- If I die young -- It is night. It's very dark. In a house far away -- The Universe is not an idea of mine -- The child who thinks about fairies and believes in them -- Slowly the field unrolls and shines golden -- Yesterday the preacher of truths (his truths) -- They spoke to me of people, and of humanity -- I lie down in the grass -- Dirty unknown child playing outside my door -- You who are a mystic see a meaning in all things -- Ah! They want a light that's better than the sun's -- That thing over there was more there than it is -- This morning I went out very early -- I can also make conjectures -- This may be the last day of my life -- Ricardo Reis: The Sad Epicurean -- Others narrate with lyres or harps -- The gods grant nothing more than life -- Don't clap your hands before beauty -- Ah, you believers in Christs and Marys -- On this day when the green fields -- Here, with no other Apollo than Apollo -- Above the truth reign the gods -- Let the gods -- Lips red from wine -- I prefer roses, my love, to the homeland -- Follow your destiny -- The bird alights, looking only to its alighting -- O morning that breaks without looking at me -- Obey the law, whether it's wrong or you are -- I want my verses to be like jewels -- Day after day life's the same life -- Who delights in the mind can delight in no destiny -- As if each kiss -- Your dead gods tell me nothing I need -- Fate frightens me, Lydia. Nothing is certain -- I devote my higher mind to the ardent -- My eyes see the fields, the fields -- Each man is a world, and as each fountain -- Not only wine but its oblivion I pour -- How great a sadness and bitterness -- Solemnly over the fertile land -- Where there are roses we plant doubt -- As long as I feel the full breeze in my hair -- What we feel, not what is felt -- I don't know if the love you give is love you have -- Want little: you'll have everything -- I was left in the world, all alone -- I tell with severity. I think what I feel -- I placidly wait for what I don't know -- Countless lives inhabit us -- Alvaro De Campos: The Jaded Sensationist -- I study myself but can't perceive -- Listen, Daisy. When I die, although -- Ah, the first minutes in cafes of new cities -- Time's Passage -- It was on one of my voyages -- Ah, when we set out to sea -- But it's not just the cadaver -- I leaned back in the deck chair and closed my eyes -- The Tobacco Shop -- Oporto-Style Tripe -- A Note in the Margin -- Deferral -- Sometimes I meditate -- Ah, the freshness in the face of leaving a task undone -- At long last ..., no doubt about it ... -- Pop -- I walk in the night of the suburban street -- Yes, I know it's all quite natural -- Streetcar Stop -- Birthday -- No! All I want is freedom -- I'd like to be able to like liking -- Reality -- I'm beginning to know myself. I don't exist -- Pack your bags for Nowhere at All -- I got off the train -- This old anguish -- Impassively -- On the eve of never departing -- Symbols? I'm sick of symbols -- The ancients invoked the Muses -- I don't know if the stars rule the world -- I've been thinking about nothing at all -- All love letters are -- Fernando Pessoa-himself: The Mask Behind the Man -- Ocean (Morning) -- God -- From Oblique Rain -- The wind is blowing too hard -- The Mummy -- The gods are happy -- In the light-footed march of heavy time -- Christmas -- By the moonlight, in the distance -- Waterfront -- Some Music -- I feel sorry for the stars -- I seem to be growing calm -- Sleep -- I contemplate the silent pond -- Like a uselessly full glass -- The sun shining over the field -- I don't know how many souls I have -- The soul with boundaries -- I'm sorry I don't respond -- Autopsychography -- I don't know how to be truly sad -- The clouds are dark -- Like an astonishing remnant -- If I think for more than a moment -- From the mountain comes a song -- This species of madness -- The wind in the darkness howls -- I have ideas and reasons -- With a smile and without haste -- Outside where the trees -- I hear in the night across the street -- Almost anonymous you smile -- This -- The day is quiet, quiet is the wind -- The sun rests unmoving -- The washwoman beats the laundry -- To travel! To change countries -- This great wavering between -- I have in me like a haze -- Dreams, systems, myths, ideals -- I divide what I know -- The child that laughs in the street -- Prince Henry the Navigator -- The Stone Pillar -- The Sea Monster -- Epitaph of Bartolomeu Dias -- Ferdinand Magellan -- Portuguese Sea -- Prayer. |
| Other Titles: | Fernando Pessoa and Co Pessoa |
| Responsibility: | edited and translated from the Portuguese by Richard Zenith. |
Abstract:
Translator Richard Zenith has collected in a single volume all the major poetry of Fernando Pessoa (1888-1935), "one of the most extraordinary poetic talents the century has produced" ("Microsoft Network's Reading Forum").
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