Poetry. 1250 My heart is late.

My heart is late.

Fei Nandu Pessoa [Portugal]

My heart is late. if

When love comes, my heart will never be late

However, since love is futile,

Then there is no difference between love and not love.

It's late My heart was abandoned before I was late,

Maybe it's over.

My heart, redundant and tame,

It pretends to be mine. If love dies

The gap of my love was torn open by my heart, and I was cared for.

If love ends the existence of nothingness

And win your own essence, what will happen?

None of this happened. Me and my heart

Just a passer-by, between vain desires and dreams.

The ruins left behind.

My heart and I are soul mates,

But they fell into the pit on the road together.

This is our life, our trip.

1933/9/ 19