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Tell me again the music of that tale Thy nurse wit sang so oft by my soul's bed, Whose words and persons from my memory fade, But in the melody remembered. Thou mightst shift all the pawns of that told game And, so the music made it far off be, I shall still hear the tale as if the same, Far bark on seas of the same melody. What fairy castles and closed beauties lie On moonlight of not‑life away from where Loss is, truth kills, what charms must be put by, And but the still‑to‑be keeps fresh & fair. What matter the song, so by it the soul weeps Lost kinship with its antenatal sleeps?
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Fernando Pessoa
49186
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