Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Fernando Pessoa

The Keeper of Sheep XXXIX

The mystery of things – where is it?
Why doesn\'t it come out
To show us at least that it\'s mystery?
What do the river and the tree know about it?
And what do I, who am no more than they, know about it?

Whenever I look at things and think about what people think of them,
I laugh like a brook cleanly plashing against a rock.
For the only hidden meaning of things
Is that they have no hidden meaning.
It\'s the strangest thing of all,
Stranger than all poets\' dreams
And all philosophers\' thoughts,
That things are really what they seem to be
And there\'s nothing to understand.

Yes, this is what my senses learned on their own:
Things have no meaning: they exist.
Things are the only hidden meaning of things.

O Guardador de Rebanhos XXXIX

O Guardador de Rebanhos XXXIX

O mistério das cousas, onde está ele?
Onde está ele que não aparece
Pelo menos a mostrar-nos que é mistério?
Que sabe o rio disso e que sabe a árvore?
E eu, que não sou mais do que eles, que sei disso?
Sempre que olho para as cousas e penso no que os homens
pensam delas,
Rio como um regato que soa fresco numa pedra.

Porque o único sentido oculto das cousas
É elas não terem sentido oculto nenhum.
É mais estranho do que todas as estranhezas
E do que os sonhos de todos os poetas
E os pensamentos de todos os filósofos,
Que as cousas sejam realmente o que parecem ser
E não haja nada que compreender.

Sim, eis o que os meus sentidos aprenderam sozinhos: –
As cousas não têm significação: têm existência.
As cousas são o único sentido oculto das cousas.
Close

The Keeper of Sheep XXXIX

The mystery of things – where is it?
Why doesn\'t it come out
To show us at least that it\'s mystery?
What do the river and the tree know about it?
And what do I, who am no more than they, know about it?

Whenever I look at things and think about what people think of them,
I laugh like a brook cleanly plashing against a rock.
For the only hidden meaning of things
Is that they have no hidden meaning.
It\'s the strangest thing of all,
Stranger than all poets\' dreams
And all philosophers\' thoughts,
That things are really what they seem to be
And there\'s nothing to understand.

Yes, this is what my senses learned on their own:
Things have no meaning: they exist.
Things are the only hidden meaning of things.

The Keeper of Sheep XXXIX

The mystery of things – where is it?
Why doesn\'t it come out
To show us at least that it\'s mystery?
What do the river and the tree know about it?
And what do I, who am no more than they, know about it?

Whenever I look at things and think about what people think of them,
I laugh like a brook cleanly plashing against a rock.
For the only hidden meaning of things
Is that they have no hidden meaning.
It\'s the strangest thing of all,
Stranger than all poets\' dreams
And all philosophers\' thoughts,
That things are really what they seem to be
And there\'s nothing to understand.

Yes, this is what my senses learned on their own:
Things have no meaning: they exist.
Things are the only hidden meaning of things.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère