alberto-caeiro

When I__ depressed, I read Caeiro _ he__ my fresh air. I become very calm, content, faithful _ yes, I find faith in God, and in the soul__ transcendent living smallness, after reading the poems by that ungodly anti-humanist who goes unsurpassed on earth.

The Amorous Shepherd is a fruitless interlude, but those few poems are among the world__ greatest love poems, because they__e love poems about love, not about being poems. The poet loves because he loves, not because love exists.

he woman Caeiro fell in love with. I have no idea who she was, and I intend to never find out, not even out of curiosity. There are things of which the soul refuses to lose its ignorance.I__ perfectly aware no one__ obliged to reciprocate love, and great poets have nothing to do with being great lovers. But there__ a transcendent spite...Let her remain anonymous even to God!

It__ the poet we love in Caeiro, not the philosopher. What we really get from these poems is a childlike sense of life, with all the direct materiality of the child__ mind, and all the vital spirituality of hope and increase that exist in the body and soul of nescient childhood. Caeiro__ work is a dawn that wakes us up and quickens us; a more that material, more than anti-spiritual dawn. It__ an abstract effect, pure vacuum, nothingness.

His conception of the universe is, however, instinctive, not intellectual; it can't be criticized as a concept, because there__ none there, and it can't be criticized as temperament, because temperament can't be criticized.

I consider a dream like I consider a shadow,_ answered Caeiro, with his usual divine, unexpected promptitude. __ shadow is real, but it__ less real than a rock. A dream is real _ if it weren__, it wouldn__ be a dream _ but less real than a thing. That__ what being real is like.