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Fernando Pessoa - Sonnet XXXIV
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Happy the maimed, the halt, the mad, the blind--
All who, stamped separate by curtailing birth,
Owe no duty`s allegiance to mankind
Nor stand a valuing in their scheme of worth!
But I, whom Fate, not Nature, did curtail,
By no exterior voidness being exempt,
Must bear accusing glances where I fail,
Fixed in the general orbit of contempt.
Fate, less than Nature in being kind to lacking,
Giving the ill, shows not as outer cause,
Making our mock-free will the mirror`s backing
Which Fate`s own acts as if in itself shows;
  And men, like children, seeing the image there,
  Take place for cause and make our will Fate bear.
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