Steve McCurry
Dal Lake, Kashmir, 1999

FOUR SORROWS
Many rivers run
Down to many seas.
All my cares are one:
On what river of these
Could my heart have peace?

Two banks to each river.
None where I may stray
Hearing the rushes shiver
And seeing the river ever
Pass, yet seem to stay.

Maybe there is another
River, but far in Me.
There I may meet the Brother
Of my eternity.
In what God will this be?

Nothing; all the leaves
Fallen from the tree.
Many a river cleaves
Its way past what grieves
To what grieves in me.

FERNANDO PESSOA, English Poems I