Temporal
Silence
To Dim. Svetlin
I’ve kept silent – years unending –
with thoughts tearing my brows,
today out of this silence-keeping
I come as if out of a grave.
Hovering above my spirit still
is the void unnamed
of days and nights instilled –
same as the death unblamed.
And numbed with anxiety hot –
albeit this time free! –
the thoughts still cannot
take off the cage and be.
As someone up from illness,
my verse makes little steps,
but my words void of wellness
are full of anger and distress;
and just as brief as writings
on the wall – written in a blast
of daring by a convict in his last
steps to face the shooting squad.
1964
TRANSLATION FROM BULGARIAN April 2011
And the Heart at Long Last Dies
The rapids of the years all flushes out.
And the heart at long last dies – or!?! –
With indifference you pass your enemy by,
you stop to yearn and look for more.
And if you meet her that you once loved,
not a thing to tell comes to your mind.
The beggar even, decomposed,
his rough hand before your gaze withdraws.
1956
TRANSLATION FROM BULGARIAN April 2011
