Yes! I love this! Thanks for translating this, Robert. A lot of my so-called "meditation" these days, comes down to "life without me in it". It is refreshing to see everything as it is, minus myself. I look around and watch life going on as it will when this perspective is gone. Nothing is lost...
Thank you for introducing me to the poetry and (anti-)philosophy of Pessoa (heteronym Alberto Caeiro). His position that "reality is real" and known only via "direct seeing" is a welcome counterpoint to Buddhist emptiness. It made me think (err, see!). Whether it's (only) form (and/) or emptiness, it remains mystery to me. Although (probably) not elements of Caeiro's thinking, I am struck by how this poem resonates with Stoicism's memento mori and amor fati. Thank you again for sharing.
This confused me at first. I had to read it a few times to really Grok what you were saying. I even felt a bit angry, but then I understood. Thank you Robert.
I did not write the poem, Renaee. It was written over a century ago by a man who called himself Fernando Pessoa. My friend Roque posted it on my Facebook page. I had never heard of Pessoa, but the poem reminded me of my own outlook, so I translated it for English readers.
Yes, I realised this too after I re read it from the top part, you explained this. I get glimpses of what he spoke of at times. On my walk the scent of a flower reminded me of childhood, a sweet, tender feeling that stilled my mind for a bit, and two children rode past me on their bikes, happy as kids can be, and the anger at the mess of this civilisation, as we march toward extinction, and the anger as my daughter is hell bent on her sex change, drops away. It was a good translation. I read it again just now, I do get it - deeply, I really do.
Love this with all my heart. Love you Robert Satzman and Roque Torres Moreira! What a world, what a wonder!
Love it. This beautiful poem reminds me of Witter Bynner's translation of verse 40 of the Dao De Jing.
Life on its way returns into a mist,
Its quickness is its quietness again:
Existence of this world of things and men
Renews their never needing to exist.
"I listen without hearing you. Why would I want to listen to you? If I heard you, I would end up knowing nothing." Absolute zinger.
Yes! I love this! Thanks for translating this, Robert. A lot of my so-called "meditation" these days, comes down to "life without me in it". It is refreshing to see everything as it is, minus myself. I look around and watch life going on as it will when this perspective is gone. Nothing is lost...
It is..what it is..regardless of what we want or don’t want. Nailed the ultimate truth 🩵
Thank you for introducing me to the poetry and (anti-)philosophy of Pessoa (heteronym Alberto Caeiro). His position that "reality is real" and known only via "direct seeing" is a welcome counterpoint to Buddhist emptiness. It made me think (err, see!). Whether it's (only) form (and/) or emptiness, it remains mystery to me. Although (probably) not elements of Caeiro's thinking, I am struck by how this poem resonates with Stoicism's memento mori and amor fati. Thank you again for sharing.
It’s good to see your thinking reflected in this beautiful poem, good to enjoy the fruit of another one of your many talents—translation!! ❤️🙏
I love this. It’s so simple and untainted. Thank you 🙌
This is beautiful. Thank you.
Thank you.
This confused me at first. I had to read it a few times to really Grok what you were saying. I even felt a bit angry, but then I understood. Thank you Robert.
I did not write the poem, Renaee. It was written over a century ago by a man who called himself Fernando Pessoa. My friend Roque posted it on my Facebook page. I had never heard of Pessoa, but the poem reminded me of my own outlook, so I translated it for English readers.
Yes, I realised this too after I re read it from the top part, you explained this. I get glimpses of what he spoke of at times. On my walk the scent of a flower reminded me of childhood, a sweet, tender feeling that stilled my mind for a bit, and two children rode past me on their bikes, happy as kids can be, and the anger at the mess of this civilisation, as we march toward extinction, and the anger as my daughter is hell bent on her sex change, drops away. It was a good translation. I read it again just now, I do get it - deeply, I really do.
A direct glimpse of what is, a flash of reality can fill us with tenderness, even in the face of the anger of what we do not like.
My look is sharp as a sunflower
I have the habit of walking along the roads
Looking right and left,
And now and then backwards...
....
And what I see at every moment
Is that which I have never seen before,
...
I believe in the world as in a daisy,
Because I see it. But I do not think about it
Because to think is not to understand...
The world wasn't made for us to think about it
(To think is to be sick in the eyes)
But to look at it and agree...
...
From "The keeper of the flocks" by Pessoa (Alberto Caeiro)