That Other Door Will Open And All That We Were—rubbish Of Stars And Souls—will Be Swept Outside The House

Civilization is an education in nature.

The only thing I’ve desired is what I couldn’t even imagine.

He’s guided by norms without knowing that they guide him or even that they exist,
and all his ideas,

feelings and acts are unconscious—not because there’s no
consciousness in them but because there aren’t two consciousnesses.

It wouldn’t trouble me at all if Portugal were invaded or occupied,
as long as I was left in peace.

One day,
when everything is finally and fully revealed,

that other door will open and all that we
were—rubbish of stars and souls—will be swept outside the house
so that what exists can start over.

My whole life,
my memories,
my imagination and all it contains,
my personality: it all slips away.

Only to kill what never was is lofty,
perverse and absurd.

During an idle moment I walked over to the
open office window—the heat had caused it to be opened

but the rain hadn’t caused it to
be shut—and looked with intense and indifferent concentration
as is my custom,
at what I just finished accurately describing before I saw it.

What I basically do is convert other people into my dreams.

—Alberto Caeiro, A Águia, from "The New Poetry Sociologically Considered"