Conditions

With so many sad refusals

I took my leave of mirrors

and abandoned my profession:

I wanted to be blind on a corner

and sing for all the world

without seeing anyone because everyone

resembled me a little.

But I was seeking meanwhile

how to look at myself behind,

to where I was eyeless

and dark was my condition.

I got nothing from singing

like a blind man of the masses:

meanwhile the bitterer the street

the sweeter to myself I seemed.

Condemned to love myself so much

I made a hypocritical exterior

hiding the deep love

that my defects caused me.

And thus I went on being happy

without anyone ever finding out

my unfathomable infirmity:

the which I suffered to love myself

without being, perhaps. reciprocated.

Pablo Neruda