Explore "35 Sonnets" by Fernando Pessoa on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When I do think my meanest line shall be / More in Time's use than my creating whole, / That future eyes more clearly shall feel me / In this inked page than in my direct soul; / When I conjecture put to make me seeing / Good readers of me in some aftertime, / Thankful to some idea of my being / That doth not even my with gone true soul rime; / An anger at the essence of the world, / That makes this thus, or thinkable this wise, / Takes my soul by the throat and makes it hurled / In nightly horrors of despaired surmise, / And I become the mere sense of a rage / That lacks the very words whose waste might 'suage.