Greg Simon
The River
     after Fernando Pessoa

I grow calmer & calmer.
I think I'm going to die --
young, tender tiredness to
quench desire I once desired.

My spirit astonishes me --
acquiescent to this feeling.
Suddenly, in the green grove
a river shines beyond it.

Circling me now, this is real --
Tejo, sunlight, almond trees.

March 1929 (Songbook)

     after Fernando Pessoa

Every poet's a forger --
they'll forge whatever they can
including the pains I know
belong solely to poets.

Whoever reads their poetry
won't experience those pains,
just pain made of blue vapor
from stars we never knew fell.

As when -- shunting aside all
awareness -- the clockwork trams
we refer to as our hearts
roll along their iron rails.