It was rather tiresome in relation to the poems of Seferis Maros. The works of Seferis Maros often require a deep understanding and appreciation of Greek literature and culture. For those who are not well-versed in these aspects, it can be a challenging and perhaps even a tiresome experience to engage with his poems. However, for those who have a passion for Greek literature and are willing to invest the time and effort in studying and analyzing his works, they will discover a world of beauty, depth, and complexity. Seferis Maros' poems are rich in imagery, symbolism, and emotion, and they offer a unique perspective on the human condition and the world around us.

I am unable to complete it.

It has no interest for me.

Maybe there are several reasons for this. Firstly, the task itself might be too difficult or complex for my current abilities and knowledge. Secondly, I might not have enough motivation or enthusiasm towards it. Without a sense of purpose or personal connection, it becomes hard to invest the necessary time and effort.

However, I understand the importance of perseverance and trying my best. I will try to analyze the task more closely, break it down into smaller, more manageable parts, and seek help or resources if needed. Maybe I can also find a way to make it more interesting or relevant to my own life, which could boost my motivation and make it easier for me to complete.

These letters made me recall the fruitless attempts of my first loves during puberty.

However, looking at it from other angles, and from a Pessoa who was already a man when experiencing this love, it made me feel eager to fall in love, to be terribly ridiculous, and perhaps, create an alter ego along the way.

Love makes one lose the fear of ridicule because one simply doesn't see it.

It's as if love has a magical power that blinds us to the potential embarrassment or absurdity of our actions.

We become so consumed by the emotions and desires that come with love that we are willing to take risks and do things that might seem crazy to others.

In this case, Pessoa's experience with love led him to have these complex and somewhat contradictory feelings.

On one hand, he remembered the disappointments of his past loves, but on the other hand, he was still drawn to the idea of falling in love again, even if it meant making a fool of himself.

This shows the powerful hold that love can have on us, and how it can shape our thoughts, feelings, and actions.

Também escrevi em meu tempo cartas de amor,

Como as outras,

Ridículas.

As cartas de amor, se há amor,

Tem de ser

Ridículas.

Álvaro de Campos escreveu assim alguns anos após o namoro de Fernando Pessoa e Ophélia Queirós. Estas cartas de amor realmente têm algo de ridículo. Elas não são uma obra literária no nível do talento do poeta. Nem sequer há muitos poemas para Ophélia -apesar de alguns versos - com exceção de um escrito em nome de Álvaro de Campos, que nada tem a ver com um poema de amor.

O namoro se dividiu em duas fases com um intervalo de nove anos. Fernando Pessoa criou um universo infantilizado, quer pela forma como tratava Ophélia -através de diminutivos - quer pela linguagem "à bebé". Na segunda fase, já se pode vislumbrar um pouco do Pessoa que conhecemos, e a intervenção cada vez mais frequente de Álvaro de Campos. A linguagem torna-se mais arrojada e às vezes disparatada. Álvaro de Campos, de quem Ophélia não gostava nada. Mas Álvaro de Campos era Pessoa, e como separá-los?

Eu não duvido que Fernando Pessoa tenha amado Ophélia. Não sei se seria o tipo de amor que ela pretendia. Ophélia queria desesperadamente casar, ter filhos e dedicar-se ao lar e ao marido. Para Pessoa, o grande amor da sua vida era a escrita e a ela se dedicaria por inteiro. Foi-se afastando e o namoro terminou. Apesar da aparente simplicidade destas cartas, muito está entrelaçado nas entrelinhas e muito há a descortinar da complexa personalidade do poeta.

Seria novamente Álvaro de Campos a escrever:

"Queriam-me casado, fútil, quotidiano e tributável?"

"Queriam-me o contrário disto, o contrário de qualquer coisa?"

"Se eu fosse outra pessoa, fazia-lhes, a todos, a vontade."

"Assim, como sou, tenham paciência!"

"Vão para o diabo sem mim,"

"Ou deixem-me ir sozinho para o diabo!"

"Para que havemos de ir juntos?"

"Não me peguem no braço!"

"Não gosto que me peguem no braço. Quero ser sozinho."

"Já disse que sou sozinho!"

"Ah, que maçada quererem que eu seja da companhia!"

Foi uma leitura que fiz com a sensação de estar a abrir uma gaveta que não era minha e, a espreitar algo que sendo privado, devia ter ficado fechadinho.

To be honest, it's not fair to rate love letters. However, I find them truly fascinating. I never anticipated that my favorite writer would fall so deeply in love and pen some rather questionable things to his lover. Love has this mysterious power that can drive even the most rational and talented individuals to express themselves in ways that might seem unexpected. The emotions that pour out in those love letters are raw and unfiltered, revealing a side of the writer that we may not have seen before. It makes me wonder what lengths we would all go to when overcome by the force of love. Do we lose our inhibitions and say things that we might later regret? Or do we embrace the moment and let our hearts speak freely? These are the questions that love letters raise, and they continue to intrigue me.

Pessoa's book consists of love-filled, childlike and even naïve letters in which the gloom in his books is hardly seen.
Since I have attached great value to this book since my high school years, I think I was disappointed.
Yes, writers should be evaluated independently of their works. But somehow I was still expecting more literary and deeper letters.
Throughout the writer's life, creating writers with different biographies and then creating their works in a language specific to those writers has always seemed magical to me. Learning in these letters that one of the created writers is one of the writer's personalities surprised me. So much so that when thinking like one of those writers, he is demeaning himself with the words of that writer next to the woman he loves!
Nowadays, even if it is called multiple personality disorder, it seems that this situation could also be caused in the past.

Bella la scrittura di Pessoa come sempre. Tuttavia, quanto sono trash queste lettere!

Pessoa's writing is beautiful as always. But these letters are so trashy!

His words seem to flow effortlessly, creating a world that is both captivating and mysterious.

Yet, there is something about these particular letters that just doesn't sit right.

Perhaps it's the lack of coherence or the disjointed nature of the thoughts expressed.

Or maybe it's just my personal taste that doesn't align with what he has written.

Either way, it's hard to deny the beauty of his language and the skill with which he crafts his sentences.

Even if the content leaves something to be desired, the form is still a work of art.

Overall, while I may not be a fan of these letters, I can still appreciate the talent and creativity that went into writing them.

All love letters are

ridiculous.

They wouldn't be love letters if they weren't

ridiculous.

I too have written love letters in my time,

like the others,

ridiculous.

Love letters, if there is love,

must be

ridiculous.

But, after all,

only those who have never written

love letters

are

ridiculous.

This text seems to suggest that there is an inherent absurdity in love letters. It implies that the very nature of expressing love in written form often leads to something that may seem comical or laughable. However, it also makes the point that those who have never experienced the act of writing a love letter are the ones who are truly missing out and perhaps even more ridiculous in a sense. It's a thought-provoking perspective on the role and significance of love letters in the realm of human emotions and relationships.

I really liked getting to know the Person in such a more "intimate" way (I who have difficulties with poetry).

It was an interesting experience to explore the inner world of the Person through this different medium.

Even though I struggle with understanding and creating poetry, I found that this closer encounter allowed me to see aspects of the Person that I might not have otherwise noticed.

It made me realize that there is so much depth and complexity within each individual, and that sometimes, the most unexpected forms of expression can reveal the true essence of a person.

I am grateful for this opportunity to have delved deeper into the Person's being and look forward to more such experiences in the future.

48 love letters and 16 poems.

This collection seems to hold a world of emotions and hidden desires.

It makes one wonder about the heart and soul of the person who penned them.

The statement 'Pessoa escogió la literatura porque no podía escoger el amor' (Pessoa chose literature because he couldn't choose love) adds an interesting layer of mystery.

Perhaps through these written works, Pessoa was able to express the love that eluded him in real life.

Each letter and poem might be a piece of his fragmented heart, a cry for connection, or a celebration of the beauty and pain of love.

We can only imagine the stories and experiences that lie behind these words, waiting to be discovered and understood by those who take the time to read and reflect.

They serve as a reminder that love and literature are intertwined, and that through the written word, we can explore the deepest recesses of our hearts and find a connection with others.

Este libro cuenta con las cartas que Fernando Pessoa les envío a —la que pudo ser su único amor— su novia Ofélia Queiroz.

Se divide en tres partes. La primera parte surge en 1920. En este momento, Pessoa conoce a Ofélia a finales de 1919 en una oficina comercial. Ofélia tenía 19 años y Pessoa 31 años. Pocos meses después, el poeta se enamora perdidamente de la joven y declara su amor, iniciando así las cartas.

La segunda parte surge entre 1920 y 1930. A finales de 1920, Ofélia y Fernando dejan de verse y de escribirse porque ella quiere casarse, pero Pessoa no tiene dinero para mantener un hogar y sabe que el padre de Ofélia lo rechazará. Sin embargo, en septiembre de 1929, vuelven con el amor. Pero ahora hay otros problemas. Pessoa quiere terminar su obra y radicarse en otro lugar. Además, su adicción al alcohol y la intervención de Álvaro de Campos, uno de sus heterónimos, que le escribe cartas crueles a Ofélia, provocan la segunda y última ruptura.

A pesar de ello, siguen enviando telegramas de felicitaciones, pero ya nada queda del amor que tenían. En 1935, Pessoa deja en la casa de su ex amada el libro que contiene el poema "Mensaje" con una dedicatoria. Sería la última vez que abría señales del escritor, ya que éste falleció el 30 de noviembre del mismo año.

La tercera parte del libro contiene los poemas dedicados para ella, algunos de los cuales fueron escritos bajo los heterónimos de Pessoa.

"Quedé loco, quedé tonto, mis besos fueron sin cuento, y la apreté contra mí, y la enlacé con mis brazos, y así me embriagué de abrazos, quedé loco y fue así".

Citas: https://hechaensilencio.blogspot.com/...

Just like with the wonderful work published by Seix Barral, "Fragmentos. Poemas, notas personales, cartas" by Marilyn Monroe, Antonio Tabucchi surprises with another wonderful prologue before this sublime edition by Libros del Zorro Rojo, "Cartas a Ophélia" by Fernando Pessoa. This work had not been edited for almost twenty years until now, when it appears again with wonderful illustrations by Antonio Seguí.

Pessoa, the poet, the cabalist, the occultist, the poet of the heteronyms, the being who lived poetry letter by letter, the fugitive from himself; maintained one of the most beautiful relationships that literature has known with Ophélia Queiroz, his only love. With her, he never had any carnal relationship, and this has become one of the purest and at the same time most complicated love stories known in letters. Their encounters, although fleeting and innocent, must be studied in depth to understand the eternal Pessoa.

Fernando Pessoa, at the age of 32, met Ophélia, 19, at work. As he expresses in one of his letters, it is thanks to a power outage that this beautiful and innocent relationship begins, which will mark the existence of the poet of poets forever.

The book is divided into two parts. The first, "Cartas a Ophélia – Primera Etapa 1920", where we discover a pure, innocent and sublime love, bordering on the juvenile. Their treatment of each other makes it seem like a love of children awakening from innocence, and this makes each letter unforgettable. In many of them, we discover a Fernando Pessoa who struggles desperately to keep some of his heteronyms at bay. Where he subtly caresses the idea more than once that he sees himself as a madman, as he writes on May 22, 1920, "I'm a little better (in health, not in judgment)". In a large number of these letters, Álvaro de Campos is seen interfering in the relationship that Pessoa struggles to maintain.

The second part corresponds to "Segunda Etapa 1929 – 1930". By this time, Álvaro de Campos basically completely dominates the relationship between the two, and Fernando is almost completely carried away, as demonstrated on October 9, 1929, when his sanity is already in the hands of Campos.

This collection of letters closes with "Poemas entregados a Ophélia y otros poemas", and it is here that the internal struggle lived by the man of a thousand men with that love so full of innocence towards her is shown in greater quantity.

Fernando Pessoa has been one of the cases that best represents the sacrifice of love for letters; one of the names that has contributed the most to poetry and universal letters. This is the most personal Pessoa, the Pessoa who becomes his own heteronym, where one enjoys the passion of a poet who, thanks to Álvaro de Campos, discovers that all love letters are ridiculous, because they are love letters.

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