Who is Fernando Pessoa

Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa (Portuguese: [fɨɾˈnɐ̃du pɨˈsoɐ]; 13 June 1888 – 30 November 1935) was a Portuguese poet, writer, literary critic, translator, publisher, and philosopher, described as one of the most significant literary figures of the 20th century and one of the greatest poets in the Portuguese language. He also wrote in and translated from English and French.

Pessoa was a prolific writer, and not only under his own name, for he created approximately seventy-five others, of which three stand out, Alberto Caeiro, Álvaro de Campos, and Ricardo Reis. He did not call them pseudonyms because he felt that this did not capture their true independent intellectual life and instead called them heteronyms. These imaginary figures sometimes held unpopular or extre...
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Fernando Pessoa Poems

  • Sonnet Xx
    When in the widening circle of rebirth
    To a new flesh my travelled soul shall come,
    And try again the unremembered earth
    With the old sadness for the immortal home, ...
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Top 10 most used topics by Fernando Pessoa

Earth 1 Strange 1 Thought 1 Black 1 Regret 1 Blind 1 Face 1 Sense 1 Small 1 Breath 1


Fernando Pessoa Quotes

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Comments about Fernando Pessoa

Dultta5: “ in dreams i have achieved everything. ” ― fernando pessoa, the book of disquiet
Arstager: “some people have one great dream in life which they fail to fulfill. others have no dream at all and fail to fulfill even that.” —fernando pessoa
Shaymabahy: fine writers do psychoanalysis “we never love anyone. what we love is the idea we have of someone. it’s our own concept—our own selves—that we love.” fernando pessoa, the book of disquiet, 1982
Lacancircle: fine writers do psychoanalysis “we never love anyone. what we love is the idea we have of someone. it’s our own concept—our own selves—that we love.” fernando pessoa, the book of disquiet, 1982
Sandwichguy48: “may the gods change my dreams, but not my talent for dreaming.” - fernando pessoa
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Poem of the day

Edgar Albert Guest Poem
The Killing Place
 by Edgar Albert Guest

We're hiking along at a two-forty pace
We 're making life seem like a man-killing race,
With our nerves all on edge and our jaws firmly set
We go rushing along; with our brows lined with sweat
And our cheeks pale and drawn every minute we dash,
And the goal that we 're after is merely more cash.

We 're out for the money, the greenbacks and gold,
...

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