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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476143" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>We Are Many</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of the many men whom I am, whom we are,<br>I cannot settle on a single one.<br>They are lost to me under the cover of clothing<br>They have departed for another city.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When everything seems to be set<br>to show me off as a man of intelligence,<br>the fool I keep concealed on my person<br>takes over my talk and occupies my mouth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">On other occasions, I am dozing in the midst<br>of people of some distinction,<br>and when I summon my courageous self,<br>a coward completely unknown to me<br>swaddles my poor skeleton<br>in a thousand tiny reservations.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When a stately home bursts into flames,<br>instead of the fireman I summon,<br>an arsonist bursts on the scene,<br>and he is I. There is nothing I can do.<br>What must I do to distinguish myself?<br>How can I put myself together?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All the books I read<br>lionize dazzling hero figures,<br>brimming with self-assurance.<br>I die with envy of them;<br>and, in films where bullets fly on the wind,<br>I am left in envy of the cowboys,<br>left admiring even the horses.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But when I call upon my DASHING BEING,<br>out comes the same OLD LAZY SELF,<br>and so I never know just WHO I AM,<br>nor how many I am, nor WHO WE WILL BE BEING.<br>I would like to be able to touch a bell<br>and call up my real self, the truly me,<br>because if I really need my proper self,<br>I must not allow myself to disappear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">While I am writing, I am far away;<br>and when I come back, I have already left.<br>I should like to see if the same thing happens<br>to other people as it does to me,<br>to see if as many people are as I am,<br>and if they seem the same way to themselves.<br>When this problem has been thoroughly explored,<br>I am going to school myself so well in things<br>that, when I try to explain my problems,<br>I shall speak, not of self, but of geography.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Pablo+Neruda">Pablo Neruda</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476143" data-title="We Are Many de Pablo Neruda" data-description="Of the many men whom I am, whom we are,
I cannot settle on a single one.
They are lost to me under the cover of clothing
They have departed for another city.

When everything seems to be set
to show me off as a man of intelligence,
the fool I keep..."></div>
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