Wednesday Poem

Like a Mist

I have in me like a mist
that is and contains nothing
nostalgia for nothing at all,
the desire for something fine.
I am enveloped by it
as if by a fog
and I see the last star glowing
above the stub in my ashtray
I smoked life away. How uncertain
all I saw or read!
And the whole world, a vast open book,
smiles at me in an unknown language.

by Fernando Pessoa
Poetic Outlaws