| About the Selection and Sources | | xi | |
| Acknowledgements | | xiv | |
| Introduction: The Drama and Dream of Fernando Pessoa |
| | 1 | (36) |
| The Unwitting Master | | 37 | (244) |
| | | |
| | 43 | (24) |
| | 45 | (3) |
| My gaze is clear like a sunflower |
| | 48 | (1) |
| To not think of anything is metaphysics enough |
| | 49 | (3) |
| | 52 | (1) |
| | 53 | (1) |
| I`d rather be the dust of the road |
| | 54 | (1) |
| The Tagus is more beautiful than the river that flows through my village |
| | 55 | (1) |
| My gaze, blue like the sky |
| | 56 | (1) |
| What we see of things are the things |
| | 57 | (1) |
| Yesterday afternoon a man from the cities |
| | 58 | (2) |
| Like a large blot of smudged fire |
| | 60 | (1) |
| Blessed be the same sun of other lands |
| | 61 | (1) |
| The mystery of things--where is it? |
| | 62 | (1) |
| | 63 | (1) |
| The coach came down the road, and went on |
| | 64 | (1) |
| On an incredibly clear day |
| | 65 | (2) |
| from The Shepherd in Love |
| | 67 | (2) |
| | 69 | (1) |
| Perhaps those who are good at seeing are poor at feeling |
| | 70 | (1) |
| The shepherd in love lost his staff |
| | 71 | (2) |
| | 73 | (2) |
| To see the fields and the river |
| | 75 | (1) |
| | 76 | (1) |
| | 77 | (2) |
| It is night. It`s very dark. In a house far away |
| | 79 | (1) |
| The Universe is not an idea of mine |
| | 80 | (1) |
| The child who thinks about fairies and believes in them |
| | 81 | (1) |
| Slowly the field unrolls and shines golden |
| | 82 | (1) |
| Yesterday the preacher of truths (his truths) |
| | 83 | (1) |
| They spoke to me of people, and of humanity |
| | 84 | (1) |
| | 85 | (1) |
| Dirty unknown child playing outside my door |
| | 86 | (1) |
| You who are a mystic see a meaning in all things |
| | 87 | (1) |
| Ah! They want a light that`s better than the sun`s |
| | 88 | (1) |
| That thing over there was more there than it is |
| | 89 | (1) |
| This morning I went out very early |
| | 90 | (1) |
| I can also make conjectures |
| | 91 | (1) |
| This may be the last day of my life |
| | 92 | (1) |
| | 93 | (6) |
| | | |
| | 99 | (2) |
| Others narrate with lyres or harps |
| | 101 | (1) |
| The gods grant nothing more than life |
| | 102 | (1) |
| Don`t clap your hands before beauty |
| | 103 | (1) |
| Ah, you believers in Christs and Marys |
| | 104 | (2) |
| On this day when the green fields |
| | 106 | (1) |
| Here, with no other Apollo than Apollo |
| | 107 | (1) |
| Above the truth reign the gods |
| | 108 | (1) |
| | 109 | (2) |
| | 111 | (1) |
| I prefer roses, my love, to the homeland |
| | 112 | (1) |
| | 113 | (1) |
| The bird alights, looking only to its alighting |
| | 114 | (1) |
| O morning that breaks without looking at me |
| | 115 | (1) |
| Obey the law, whether it`s wrong or you are |
| | 116 | (1) |
| I want my verses to be like jewels |
| | 117 | (1) |
| Day after day life`s the same life |
| | 118 | (1) |
| Who delights in the mind can delight in no destiny |
| | 119 | (1) |
| | 120 | (1) |
| Your dead gods tell me nothing I need |
| | 121 | (1) |
| Fate frightens me, Lydia. Nothing is certain |
| | 122 | (1) |
| I devote my higher mind to the ardent |
| | 123 | (1) |
| My eyes see the fields, the fields |
| | 124 | (1) |
| Each man is a world, and as each fountain |
| | 125 | (1) |
| Not only wine but its oblivion I pour |
| | 126 | (1) |
| How great a sadness and bitterness |
| | 127 | (1) |
| Solemnly over the fertile land |
| | 128 | (1) |
| Where there are roses we plant doubt |
| | 129 | (1) |
| As long as I feel the full breeze in my hair |
| | 130 | (1) |
| What we feel, not what is felt |
| | 131 | (1) |
| I don`t know if the love you give is love you have |
| | 132 | (1) |
| Want little: you`ll have everything |
| | 133 | (1) |
| I was left in the world, all alone |
| | 134 | (1) |
| I tell with severity. I think what I feel |
| | 135 | (1) |
| I placidly wait for what I don`t know |
| | 136 | (1) |
| Countless lives inhabit us |
| | 137 | (2) |
| | 139 | (4) |
| | | |
| I study myself but can`t perceive |
| | 143 | (1) |
| Listen, Daisy. When I die, although |
| | 144 | (1) |
| Ah, the first minutes in cafes of new cities |
| | 145 | (1) |
| | 146 | (23) |
| It was on one of my voyages |
| | 169 | (1) |
| Ah, when we set out to sea |
| | 170 | (1) |
| But it`s not just the cadaver |
| | 171 | (1) |
| I leaned back in the deck chair and closed my eyes |
| | 172 | (1) |
| | 173 | (7) |
| | 180 | (1) |
| | 181 | (2) |
| | 183 | (2) |
| | 185 | (1) |
| Ah, the freshness in the face of leaving a task undone |
| | 186 | (1) |
| At long last..., no doubt about it... |
| | 187 | (1) |
| | 188 | (1) |
| I walk in the night of the suburban street |
| | 189 | (2) |
| Yes, I know it`s all quite natural |
| | 191 | (2) |
| | 193 | (1) |
| | 194 | (2) |
| No! All I want is freedom |
| | 196 | (1) |
| I`d like to be able to like liking |
| | 197 | (1) |
| | 198 | (2) |
| I`m beginning to know myself. I don`t exist |
| | 200 | (1) |
| Pack your bags for Nowhere at All |
| | 201 | (1) |
| | 202 | (1) |
| | 203 | (2) |
| | 205 | (1) |
| On the eve of never departing |
| | 206 | (1) |
| Symbols? I`m sick of symbols |
| | 207 | (1) |
| The ancients invoked the Muses |
| | 208 | (1) |
| I don`t know if the stars rule the world |
| | 209 | (1) |
| I`ve been thinking about nothing at all |
| | 210 | (1) |
| | 211 | (2) |
| | 213 | (6) |
| | | |
| | 219 | (2) |
| | 221 | (1) |
| | 222 | (1) |
| | 223 | (2) |
| The wind is blowing too hard |
| | 225 | (1) |
| | 226 | (5) |
| | 231 | (1) |
| In the light-footed march of heavy time |
| | 232 | (1) |
| | 233 | (1) |
| By the moonlight, in the distance |
| | 234 | (1) |
| | 235 | (1) |
| | 236 | (1) |
| I feel sorry for the stars |
| | 237 | (1) |
| I seem to be growing calm |
| | 238 | (1) |
| | 239 | (1) |
| I contemplate the silent pond |
| | 240 | (1) |
| Like a uselessly full glass |
| | 241 | (1) |
| The sun shining over the field |
| | 242 | (1) |
| I don`t know how many souls I have |
| | 243 | (1) |
| | 244 | (2) |
| I`m sorry I don`t respond |
| | 246 | (1) |
| | 247 | (1) |
| I don`t know how to be truly sad |
| | 248 | (1) |
| | 249 | (1) |
| Like an astonishing remnant |
| | 250 | (1) |
| If I think for more than a moment |
| | 251 | (1) |
| From the mountain comes a song |
| | 252 | (1) |
| | 253 | (1) |
| The wind in the darkness howls |
| | 254 | (1) |
| | 255 | (1) |
| With a smile and without haste |
| | 256 | (25) |
| | 257 | (1) |
| I hear in the night across the street |
| | 258 | (1) |
| Almost anonymous you smile |
| | 259 | (1) |
| | 260 | (1) |
| The day is quiet, quiet is the wind |
| | 261 | (1) |
| | 262 | (1) |
| The washwoman beats the laundry |
| | 263 | (1) |
| To travel! To change countries |
| | 264 | (1) |
| This great wavering between |
| | 265 | (1) |
| | 266 | (1) |
| Dreams, systems, myths, ideals |
| | 267 | (1) |
| | 268 | (1) |
| The child that laughs in the street |
| | 269 | (2) |
| | 271 | (2) |
| Prince Henry the Navigator |
| | 273 | (1) |
| | 274 | (1) |
| | 275 | (1) |
| Epitaph of Bartolomeu Dias |
| | 276 | (1) |
| | 277 | (1) |
| | 278 | (1) |
| | 279 | (2) |
| Notes to the Introduction and the Poems | | 281 | (8) |
| Bibliography | | 289 | |
