Sonnet IV [I could not think of thee as pieced rot]

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Title:     Sonnet IV [I could not think of thee as pieced rot]
Author: Fernando Pessoa [More Titles by Pessoa]

I could not think of thee as piecèd rot,
Yet such thou wert, for thou hadst been long dead;
Yet thou liv’dst entire in my seeing thought
And what thou wert in me had never fled.
Nay, I had fixed the moments of thy beauty--
Thy ebbing smile, thy kiss’s readiness,
And memory had taught my heart the duty
To know thee ever at that deathlessness.
But when I came where thou wert laid, and saw
The natural flowers ignoring thee sans blame,
And the encroaching grass, with casual flaw,
Framing the stone to age where was thy name,
I knew not how to feel, nor what to be
Towards thy fate’s material secrecy.

[The end]
Fernando Pessoa's poem: Sonnet IV [I could not think of thee as pieced rot]

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