Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Fernando Pessoa

Tobacco Shop

But the Tobacco Shop owner has come to the door and stands there.
I look at him, straining my half-turned neck,
Straining my half-blind soul.
He'll die and so will I.
He'll leave his signboard, I'll leave poems.
A little later the street will die where his signboard hung,
And so will the language my poems were written in.

-by Fernando Pessoa

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