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Meantime

Fernando Pessoa

The Athenaeum ,

30 de Janeiro de 1920.

MEANTIME

Far away, far away,

Far away from here . . .


There is no worry after joy

Or away from fear


Far away from here.


Her lips were not very red,

Nor her hair quite gold.


Her hands played with rings.

She did not let me hold


Her hands playing with gold.


She is somewhere past,

Far away from pain.


Joy can touch her not, nor hope

Enter her domain,


Neither love in vain.


Perhaps at some day beyond

Shadows and light


She will think of me and make

All me a delight,


All away from sight.


Fernando Pessoa.