Poor Alvaro de Campos!
So terribly isolated in his life! Feeling so utterly depressed!
Poor guy, slumped in the armchair of his melancholy!
Poor guy, with tears (real tears) in his eyes,
Who today gave away, in one grand, liberal, Muscovite gesture
All that he had -- from the pocket where he had only a bit --
To that poor man who wasn't poor and had professionally sad eyes.
Poor Alvaro de Campos, nobody cares about him!
Poor thing, feeling so sorry for himself!
Yes, the poor guy!
Worse off than the many other vagrants who straddle and stray,
Who are beggars and beg,
Because the human soul is a bottomless pit.
I'm someone who knows. Poor guy!
How good to be able to rebel in my soul at a political meeting!
But I am not even that softheaded!
I don't even have the excuse of being able to hold social opinions.
I don't, as a matter of fact, have any excuse at all: I'm lucid.
Don't try changing my convictions: I'm lucid.
I already said it: I'm lucid.
Don't give me your heartfelt esthetics: I'm lucid.
Shit! I'm lucid.