Explore "35 Sonnets" by Fernando Pessoa on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Thy words are torture to me, that scarce grieve thee -- / That entire death shall null my entire thought; / And I feel torture, not that I believe thee, / But that I cannot disbelieve thee not.
Shall that of me that now contains the stars / Be by the very contained stars survived? / Thus were Fate all unjust. Yet what truth bars / An all unjust Fate's truth from being believed? / Conjecture cannot fit to the seen world / A garment of its thought untorn or covering, / Or with its stuffed garb forge an otherworld / Without itself its dead deceit discovering; / So, all being possible, an idle thought may / Less idle thoughts, self-known no truer, dismay.