Alberto Caeiro

All beings exist and nothing elseAnd that__ why they__e called beings

Night doesn__ fall for my eyesBut my idea of the night is that it falls for my eyes.Beyond my thinking and having any thoughtsThe night falls concretelyAnd the shining of stars exists like it had weight.

There__ enough metaphysics in not thinking about anything.

If I could take a bite of the whole worldAnd feel it on my palateI__ be more happy for a minute or so...But I don__ always want to be happy.Sometimes you have to beUnhappy to be natural...Not every day is sunny.When there__ been no rain for a while, you pray for it to come.So I take unhappiness with happinessNaturally, like someone who doesn__ find it strangeThat there are mountains and plainsAnd that there are cliffs and grass...What you need is to be natural and calmIn happiness and in unhappiness,To feel like someone seeing,To think like someone walking,And when it__ time to die, remember the day dies,And the sunset is beautiful, and the endless night is beautiful...That__ how it is and that__ how it should be...

Even so, I__ somebody.I__ the Discoverer of Nature.I__ the Argonaut of true sensations.I bring a new Universe to the UniverseBecause I bring the Universe to itself.

All the evil in the world comes from us bothering with each other,Wanting to do good, wanting to do evil.Our soul and the sky and the earth are enough for us.To want more is to lose this, and be unhappy.

The amorous shepherd has lost his staff,And his sheep are straying on the hillside,And he didn__ even play the flute he brought to play because he was thinking so much.No one came to him or went away. He never found his staff again.Others, cursing at him, gathered his sheep for him.No one had loved him, in the end.When he got up from the hillside and the false truth, he saw everything:The great valleys full of the same green as always,The great distant mountains, more real than any feeling,All reality, with the sky and the air and the fields that exist, is present.(And once again the air, that he__ missed for so long, entered coolly into his lungs)And he felt that the air was opening again, but with pain, a liberty in his chest.(7/10/1930)

I was born subject like others to errors and defects,But never to the error of wanting to understand too much,Never to the error of wanting to understand only with the intellect..Never to the defect of demanding of the WorldThat it be anything that__ not the World.

Between what i see in a field and what I see in another fieldThere passes for a moment the figure of a man.His steps go with __im_ in the same reality,But I look at him and them, and they__e two things:The __an_ goes walking with his ideas, false and foreign,And his steps go with the ancient system that makes legs walk.I see him from a distance without any opinion at all.How perfect that he is in him what he is _ his body,His true reality which doesn__ have desires or hopes,But muscles and the sure and impersonal way of using them.

If science wants to be truthful,What science is more truthful than the science of things without science?I close my eyes and the hard earth where I__ lyingHas a reality so real even my back feels it.I don__ need reason _ I have shoulderblades.

Something changed in part of reality _ my knees and my hands.What science has knowledge for this?The blind man goes on his way and I don__ make any more gestures.It__ already not the same time, or the same people, or anything the same.This is being real.

A row of trees far away, there on the hillside.But what is it, a row of trees? It__ just trees.Row and the plural trees aren__ things, they__e names.

Everything__ different from us. That__ why everything exists.

I pass and I stay, like the Universe.

I__ in no hurry: the sun and the moon aren__, either.Nobody goes faster than the legs they have.If where I want to go is far away, I__ not there in an instant.(6/20/1919)

I love flowers for being flowers, directly.And I love trees for being trees without my thought.

That thing over there was more there than it__ there!Yes, sometimes I cry about the perfect body that doesn__ exist.But the perfect body is the bodiest body there can be,And the rest are the dreams men have,The myopia of someone who doesn__ look very much,

Nothing at all reminds us of something else when we pay attention to it.Each thing only reminds us of what it isAnd it__ only what nothing else is.The fact that it__ it separates it from every other thing.(Everything__ nothing without another thing that__ not it).