Fernando Pessoa - Meantime

Far away, far away,

Far away from here...
There is no worry after joy
Or away from fear
Far away from here.
Her lips were not very red,
Not her hair quite gold.
Her hands played with rings.
She did not let me hold
Her hands playing with gold.
She is something past,
Far away from pain.
Joy can touch her not, nor hope
Enter her domain,
Neither love in vain.
Perhaps at some day beyond
Shadows and light
She will think of me and make
All me a delight
All away from sight.

Fernando Pessoa - SPELL

SPELL

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!

s.d.

Poemas Ingleses. Fernando Pessoa. (Edição bilingue, com prefácio, traduções, variantes e notas de Jorge de Sena e traduções também de Adolfo Casais Monteiro e José Blanc de Portugal.) Lisboa: Ática, 1974.

  - 204.

1ª pub. in Contemporânea, nº 9. Lisboa: Mar. 1923.

White Pearl, Black Oceans - Sonata Arctica

Pérola Branca, Oceanos Negros

Letting go - Andre Matos

Deixando pra lá

Reason - Shaman

Razão

Don't need to have an answer - Virgo

Não É Preciso Ter uma Resposta

Consign to Oblivion - Epica

Destinar ao Esquecimento (“Uma Nova Era Amanhece“ #3)