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Paperback
First published January 1, 2015
Love is a fire that burns invisible,I know it's cheesy as hell, and you would never hear such proclamations of love and burning desire from me, but I always find it fascinating to get a peek into a person's psyche who has lived so long ago. We humans are such simple creatures, our core hasn't changed all that much. Camões' poetry, which rings true today, proves that.
It's a wound that hurts without torment,
It's a discontent contentment,
It's pain that drives one mad and isn't painful.
I can love you as Dante loved Beatrice,But, to be fair, there were also many instances were I really didn't understand the poems at all. For example, the first two lines of the stanza above are really beautiful and speak of the importance of loyalty for love, but then Verde does a complete turnaround in the last two lines, striking a more humorous note, asserting the impossibility of marriage. So basically you are willing to walk through hell for someone but you won't marry them? Okay? Work, bitch.
Follow you always as light follows its ray,
But walk over the churchly precipice,
with you, no way!
Castrated of soul and not knowing the remedy,His despair is palpable. His feeling of displacement and not being able to fit in are feelings many people can relate to. I wouldn't recommend reading his poems if your already in a gloomy mood. They are such a downer: "I did not misplace my soul, / I remained with it, lost inside. / And so I weep in life / the passing of my soul."
every afternoon, I sink a little deeper into grief...
—Am I an emigrant from another world
where even in the throes of my pain I cannot find myself?...
I am neither myself nor the other,– is one I keep coming back to. It is very intriguing since, from a modern point of view, it's so easy to see in it the idea of gender as a spectrum, of identity as something fluid and unstable (or at least not rigid). But at the same time it could also mean something completely different. What does he mean when he writes of the "bridge of boredom"? His own life/ the human condition that doesn't satisfy him?
I am something in the middle:
a pillar holding up a bridge of boredom
that extends from me, right to the Other.
In life, for me, there's no delight.Her poems left me saddened, as her repression and despair are easily discernible and understandable. Her desire to satisfy her need to love freely as a woman and her inability to channel that love into a socially acceptable, exclusive, monogamous mode, can be seen in her poems.
I cry convulsively night and day...
Ai, como eu tenho saudades / Dos sohnos que não sonhei!... (How deep is my longing / For the dreams I did not dream!) - Mário de Sá-Carneiro, Dispersão (Dispersion)