Los futuros de Fernando Pessoa

Hoy estoy vencido, como si supiera la verdad.

Hoy estoy lúcido, como si estuviera al borde de morir,

“Tabaquería” es un notable poema: puedo cerrar los ojos y recordar de memoria los primeros versos “No soy nada | Nunca seré nada | No puedo querer ser nada | A parte de esto, tengo en mí todos los sueños del mundo”.

How many masks wear we, and undermasks,
Upon our countenance of soul, and when,
If for self-sport the soul itself unmasks,
Knows it the last mask off and the face plain?
The true mask feels no inside to the mask
But looks out of the mask by co-masked eyes.
Whatever consciousness begins the task
The task’s accepted use to dulness ties.
Like a child frighted by its mirrored faces,
Our souls, that children are, being thought-losing,
Foist otherness upon their seen grimaces
And get a whole world on their forgot causing;
And, when a thought would unmask our soul’s masking,
Itself goes not unmasked to the unmasking.