"…Attribuez à mon souffle trop court ce qui dans mon propos restera obscur ou froid. Mais retenez la comparaison – elle définit le Livre en tant que Livre c’est-à-dire en tant qu’inspiration…" (E. Lévinas)
XVII My love, and not I, is the egoist. My love for thee loves itself more than thee; Ay, more than me, in whom it doth exist, And makes me live that it may feed on me. In the country of bridges the bridge is More real than the shores it doth unsever; So in our world, all of Relation, this Is true – that truer is Love than either lover. This thought therefore comes lightly to Doubt’s door – If we, seeing substance of this world, are not Mere Intervals, God’s Absence and no more, Hollows in real Consciousness and Thought. And if ‘tis possible to Thought to bear this, fruit, Why should it not be possible the Truth? (Fernando PESSOA, English poems, “35 sonnets”)
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XVII
My love, and not I, is the egoist.
My love for thee loves itself more than thee;
Ay, more than me, in whom it doth exist,
And makes me live that it may feed on me.
In the country of bridges the bridge is
More real than the shores it doth unsever;
So in our world, all of Relation, this
Is true – that truer is Love than either lover.
This thought therefore comes lightly to Doubt’s door –
If we, seeing substance of this world, are not
Mere Intervals, God’s Absence and no more,
Hollows in real Consciousness and Thought.
And if ‘tis possible to Thought to bear this, fruit,
Why should it not be possible the Truth?
(Fernando PESSOA, English poems, “35 sonnets”)
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