"I do not know how many souls I have.
Each moment I have changed.
Feeling myself always as a stranger.
Never have I seen nor found myself.
Being so much, yet only soul I have.
Those who have souls have no peace
He who sees is just what he sees
He who feels is not he who he is.
Attentive to what I am and what I see,
Turns me into them and I am not I.
Each of my dream and desire
Is his who owned and not mine.
I am my own landscape
I witness my own journey,
Diverse, moving and alone,
I can’t feel myself where I am.
That’s why, like a stranger I read
The pages of my being.
What will follow I can’t prevent
What has passed I forget.
I note at the margin of what I read
What I thought I felt.
Rereading I say: “Was it I?”
God knows, because he wrote it. "
Fernando Pessoa
FERNANDO PESSOA- PASSAGEM DAS HORAS
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