I dream I’m a knight who ventures forth
Through deserts, hot days, and pitch-black nights.
A defender of love, with all my might
I seek the enchanted palace of Fortune!
But I’m already faint with weariness,
My sword is broken, my armor smashed. . .
And then I suddenly see it, flashing
With pomp and lofty magnificence!
I bang on the doors and cry in distress:
“I’m the Vagabond, the Dispossessed.
Have pity and open up, golden doors!”
The golden doors open with a din. . .
But sadly all I find within
Is silence and darkness – nothing more!
© 1886, Antero de Quental
© Translation: 2005, Richard Zenith
© Translation: 2005, Richard Zenith
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