I like this a lot.
FERNANDO PESSOA / ÁLVARO DE CAMPOS
Tobacco Shop http://leoleituraescrita.blogspot.com/2010/02/tabacaria-tobacco-shop-fernando-pessoa.html
I am nothing.
Never I'll be anything.
I cannot wish to be anything.
Aside from this, I have within me all the dreams of the world.
Windows of my bedroom,
Of my bedroom of one of the world's millions nobody knows who is
(And if they knew who is, what would they know?)
Give access to the mystery of a street constantly crossed by people.
To a street inaccessible to all of thoughts,
Real, impossibly real, certain, unknowingly certain,
With the mystery of things beneath the stones and beings,
With death putting dampness in the walls and men's white hairs,
With Destiny driving the wagon of everything through the road of nothing.
Today I am defeated, as if I knew the truth.
Today I am lucid, as if I were about to die
And had no more brotherhood with things
Than a goodbye, becoming this house and this streetside
A row of train wagons, and a whistled departure
From inside my head,
And a jolt of my nerves and a grind of bones on the going.
Today I am perplexed, as one who wondered and found and forgot.
Today I am divided between the loyalty I owe
To the Tobacco Shop on the other side of the street, as external real thing,
And to the feeling that everything is a dream, as inward real thing.
I have failed in everything.
And since I had no purposes, maybe everything was nothing.
The learning they gave me,
I go down from this by the window at the back of the house.
I went to the open country with grand purposes.
But there I found only grass and trees,
And when there were people, they were just as other.
I move away from the window, I sit in a chair. What shall I think about ?
More in the link.