Sunday, January 11, 2015

X- The Keeper of Sheep, Fernando Pessoa




I never kept sheep, 
But it is as if I did keep them 
My soul is that of a shepherd, 
It knows the sun and the winds. 
And walks hand in hand through seasons 
To follow and to hear. 
All the peace of Nature without people 
Comes to sit beside me. 
But I get sad like a sunset 
In our imagination, 
When the cold falls on the plains 
And we feel the night coming 
Like a butterfly through a window. 

But my sadness is calming 
Because it is natural and just 
And is that should be in the soul 
When it knows it already exists 
And the hands pick flowers without the soul noticing it. 

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