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When shall we rest? The ceaseless waves They have no quest. The trees peace-ripe. Their lifeless life From sorrow saves. When shall we go? Wither? We care Nothing to know. Sorrow is here. Aught may us cheer Now of dim there. What in us shall Cease and leave peace? Life holds in thrall Our joy like pain, Our loss-like gain, Our stayed release. Love cannot bless. Bliss cannot live. Joy's short caress Passes like wind Suddenly thinned We dream and grieve. Outward from us There lies the land Less luminous, Where we may rest, Leaving all quest, Wishing no strand. Ready the bark For our repose. Let us embark. The sea is lone? We are alone, Pain but pain shows. Remember nought. Cease like a light Suddenly not. Merge like a dream Into the stream Of its own night. 25/04/1917
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Fernando Pessoa
1445
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