[BNP/E3, 49A2 – 36]

To Some Consellors 

Ye say: “the ache of strangeness taketh thee

And thou dost give thyself ever to blaspheme

That guttering form, thy conscious soul may gleam

Apart in sullenness {…}

All is feigned.” Friend, not all is feigned. If so

The gest and ye hear the words and deem

That because may speak that though many see

That is not, all must do this equally.

I curse not God and the world to amuse

Myself or to build up an empty pride

Of empty cursing, proud in no excuse

I am a madman, ay. They[1] that deride

     My sorrow thinking that I {…} and feign

     And but plunge me still deeper into pain

                                     _______

  Portalegre 15/8/09

 
[1] They /Ye\