The Blue Makes Me Feel Love
This is a poem I wrote when I was sitting on the beach and looking at the sea and its dark blue waters because of the falling darkness. It made me feel so cozy there, caressed by the breeze. I felt the way I used to feel when playing hide-and-seek at night – protected and safe. It made me feel loved and wanted.
Falling
It isn’t necessary to be afraid of hell after death. Each and every one of us has been there already. Darkness during the sunniest of July days. Sadness among twittering bird and playing kids in the dirt. We all have been there – falling and falling with nothing to grab and stop.
Looking Out the Window
The world often seems like one seen through a window; the colors fade and all the images are blurry and distant. And at that time, a train carrying passengers we know or we thought we knew pass by. Presents, futures and pasts roll on. And the whistle that was strong is slowly fading away… the train leaves us alone.
Summer Tale
These lines will not drop the temperature nor will they blow the summer heat away. But perhaps they’ll help you sleep, dreaming of a glass of lemonade, cool breeze, soothing waves and azure horizon.
Hearts Don’t Betray
In the gloaming of the leaving June day, we tend to hold each other’s hands and promise and give holy words. Because it’s summer, because we are young and because the world seems ours for the taking. Everything is possible and achievable. Darkness hides away. But September comes and the rain with it… What’s a cold January night to a broken promise decaying in our heart? What’s the nipping wind of despair to a betrayal?
Running with the Wind
My father’s death provoked me into thinking about life and what’s after. Is there anything or just blackness awaits us? Does the rain feel as refreshing as it does on a hot summer day? Does the wind whisper in our ears the same soothing chants? I hope so, I hope so.
In the Gloaming
I wrote this poem in a very emotional state of mind and soul. It reveals my deep and hidden secrets, the memories which creep back from time to time and linger in the dark corners of my very existence.
Black Song
Dimcho Debelyanov is a genius Bulgarian poet and author. He wrote one of the most emblematic poems in Bulgarian literature. His amazing talent perished in World War I when he was just 29. Some people compare him to the greats in English literature, which is why I tried to translate one of his works into English. I hope I have managed to achieve this. Enjoy!
Welcome, Freedom
Freedom is sacred to me; the moment I feel I have no other words to say and express it, I come up with a new poem which, of course, I dedicate to this friend, lover, God.
The Beginning of Spring Green
Spring has come! The season that marks the rebirth of everything – plants, trees, animals, dreams. However, I am sitting on a stump in the forest near my favorite bubbling brook, but my eyes don’t see the river bank nor my ears hear the twitter of the birds. My mind is my all senses, I am far away… away on a beach with a wistful smile.
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