Pity him who lives at home
Happy with his life,
Without a dream, a flapping of wings,
To warmer the embers 
of his hearth abandoned!

Sad is he who is happy!
He lives because life lasts.
Nothing his soul to him whispers
More than the primeval law:
To have as life the grave.

Eras upon eras come and go
In the course of time of eras.
To be discontent is to be human.
Let nature's forces be dominated
By the vision within the soul!

And so, past the four
Ages of the being that dreamed,
The world will be the stage
Of the bright day, that in the dark
On which the empty night began.

Greece, Rome, Christianity,
Europe - all four go
To where time goes.
Who wants to live the truth
That Dom Sebastião has died?

Fernando Pessoa