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Buoy the population of the soul
Toward their destination before they drown
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helma object publisher


Monday, 14. October 2002

Untitled - Fernando Pessoa



What grieves me is not What lies within the heart, But those things of beauty Which never can be . . .

They are the shapeless shapes Which pass, though sorrow Cannot know them Nor love dream them.

They are as though sadness Were a tree and, one by one, Its leaves were to fall Half outlined in the mist.




Big Book Of Poetry

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