Sonnet
When I look at myself I see a stranger
So obsessed am I with feeling
That I sometimes lose my way when I step free
From all the sensations I receive.
The air I breathe, the liquor I imbibe,
Both belong to my way of existing,
And I never quite know how to conclude
The sensations I so unwillingly conceive.
Nor have I ever properly ascertained
If I do actually feel what I feel. Am I
Really the person I seem to be?
Am I really who I believe I am?
Even in my sensations I’m a semi-atheist,
Unsure that I am the one feeling those feelings.
Translation by Margaret Jull Costa & Patricio Ferrari
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