Explore "Spell" by Fernando Pessoa on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
From the moonlit brink of dreams / I stretch foiled hands to thee, / O borne down other streams / Than eye can think to see!
O crowned with spirit-beams!
O veiled spirituality!
My dreams and thoughts abate / Their pennons at thy feet, / O angel born too late / For fallen men to meet!
In what new sensual state / Could our twined lives feel sweet?
What new emotion must / I dream to think thee mine?
What purity of lust?
O tendrilled as a vine / Around my caressed trust!
O dream-pressed spirit-wine!