All of this

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I carry inside my heart,
As in a chest too full to shut,
All the places where I’ve been,
All the ports at which I’ve called,
All the sights I’ve seen through windows and portholes
And from quarterdecks, dreaming,
And all of this, which is so much, is nothing next to what I want.

(Álvaro de Campos, Passage of the hours)


12 thoughts on “All of this

  1. Bonjour Kari (smiling a lot)
    …Fingerprints love
    extend from January following December…
    time to lurking
    In each gap between the days…
    in your eyes are trapped all these moments

    “Ces trésors accumulés de tendresse.”
    Charles-Augustin Sainte-Beuve

    beautiful composition of meanings!

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