Fernando Pessoa, the fake poet who believed in the zodiac

His love was only one, named Ofélia, the life didn't manage to reach five in the number of decades and laughter - when it came out - was nervous, uncomfortable. He preferred to walk alone with himself, accompanied only by the anguish and sadness that he carried in his mind, in his chest, in his soul, perhaps the result of the zodiacal rulership. He was a Gemini with a Scorpio ascendant.

He was born Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa, but managed to be so many… More than 70, if you are looking for some kind of approximate accuracy, but only three duly recognised and with their respective star charts drawn by the poet's own small hands, who every now and then stopped handling words to clean the rounded glasses that allowed him to see life. Even if he didn't like it, even if he didn't want to. He saw, and more than that, he felt. And better than that: he wrote.

He was Ricardo Reis, Alberto Caeiro and Álvaro de Campos, too. Said it was nothing, but it turned out to be a lot—not everything; that would be little for him. And most of that much was in a trunk, over 25,000 pages if you're looking for some sort of approximate accuracy. It was poetry, drama, short stories, philosophy, literary criticism, translations, linguistic theory, political texts, and horoscopes.

Yes, horoscopes. He built not only his own life but also the lives of his heteronyms based on birth charts carefully drawn and calculated by himself. He believed that the movement of the planets in this universe so far from understanding was the way to understand his own being — Fernando's, Alberto's, Álvaro's, Ricardo's, too. And many more. In this, he was no pretender.

“The poet is a faker

Who's so good at his act

He even fakes the pain

Of pain he feels in fact.”

The birth chart X the poet's life

Due to the combination of the stars when he was born, Pessoa is Gemini, with the element of Air. According to a brief interpretation, this made him someone changeable, with his life linked to intellect and communication, restless, and in need of information. Furthermore, having a Scorpio ascendant made him introverted, alienated from the world, and melancholic. He was someone deep, something that, let's face it, even a mere connoisseur of his words would be able to say.

He smoked 80 cigarettes a day. He didn't like taking pictures or talking on the phone, and he also hated thunderstorms. Once, legend says it, he failed to attend an interview he was going to give Brazilian journalist Cecília Meireles because, that day, the stars pointed out that the meeting would not be a good omen. He was therefore superstitious.

His biographers point to him as having a “non-active emotional” personality, because deep down he was shy and given to strong instabilities of feelings and emotions. Especially towards the end of his life, when he was taken over by exaggerated existential anguish. But, as reported in À mesa com Fernando Pessoa, by Luís Machado, the poet had “a very complex character” and was “a simple man with great intelligence and extreme sensitivity”. He is also described as reserved, always avoiding talking about himself or the problems he was carrying.

Astrologers heard by the newspaper Expresso, some time ago, said that Pessoa’s birth chart shows someone in conflict and permanent tension “between introversion and extroversion, with an enormous need to be seen, but immersed in a world of psychological crises and profound transformations ”. This is, from an astrological point of view, the justification for the anguish that the poet was experiencing, and perhaps for the essence of his creation.

A love that wasn't love but was ridiculous like all love is

This deep anguish also interfered with Fernando Pessoa's life. The last 15 years of his life, spent in a house at Rua Coelho da Rocha, nº 16, in Lisbon, were of dreams dreamed of in a single bed, in a room with a large window and little furniture. On one of the pieces of furniture, still preserved in the foundation that bears his name and is based at the same address, was where he wrote the ridiculous love letters he exchanged with his only love, Ofélia.

The courtship did not last long and perhaps it was the seed for one of the love poems signed by Álvaro de Campos, from which came the impeccable statement that “all love letters are ridiculous”.

The first passionate combination of words he sent to Ophelia dates back to 1920, March 1st. On November 29 of that year, in a new letter, he broke off the relationship.

Fernando died alone, on November 29, 1935, after a series of bouts of fever and severe abdominal pain. The day before, he wrote on paper what would be his last words: “I know not what tomorrow will bring”. It was poetry to the end. And it continues to be - poetry has no end.

The Herdsman

BY ALBERTO CAEIRO (FERNANDO PESSOA)

TRANSLATED BY EDOUARD RODITI

I'm herdsman of a flock.

The sheep are my thoughts

And my thoughts are all sensations.

I think with my eyes and my ears

And my hands and feet

And nostrils and mouth.

To think a flower is to see and smell it.

To eat a fruit is to sense its savor.

And that is why, when I feel sad,

In a day of heat, because of so much joy

And lay me down in the grass to rest

And close my sun-warmed eyes,

I feel my whole body relaxed in reality

And know the whole truth and am happy.