| Fernando Pessoa |
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| Center What remains of my childhood are the astonishing hours, half-empty glass from which I, when I'm by myself, still drink. I almost feel guilty when I lose faith in my lack of faith at the center of a dream in the ruined garden of dreams. Center with no words or charm, stealing the sunflower's voice. Yellow center amazed by the center of all that is dark. - translated by Greg Simon |
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