Symbols. Everything's symbols... Maybe it's all symbols... Can you be a symbol too?
I watch, exiled from you, your two white hands With their good English manners on the tablecloth. People independent of you... I look at them: can they be symbols too? Then the whole world is all symbol and magic? It proplaby is... And why shouldn't it be?
Symbols... I'm tired of thinking... Finally I lift my eyes to find your eyes eyeing me. You smile knowing just what I was thinking...
My God! but you don't know... I was thinking about symbols... faithfully I join the conversation at the head of the table... "It was very strange, wasn't it?" "Awfully strange. And how did it end?" "Well, it didn't end. It never does, you know." Yes, you know... I know... Yes, I know... That's the trouble with symbols, you know. Yes, I know. Perfectly natural conversation...But the symbols? I don't take my eyes off your hands... Who are they? My God! The symbols...The symbols...
(1933)
in «Álvaro de Campos» from Poems of Fernando Pessoa
This is an amazing place in Sintra. This convent, is a franciscan Convent all built in cork and rocks. Its was left abandon for years. The result is a display of "grafitis" of peopel who decided to leave their mark. its also a living prof that people have no values of respect for simbols..at all. Thanks for your coment.