Krasimir Krivcev

Poetry

But Birds Alone Are Born So Light

Be first to rate

Poetry

Godly Biddings of a Foolish Novelst

Be first to rate

Poetry

When the Body Takes Up Robes

Be first to rate

Poetry

I'm Busy Being Vertical

Be first to rate

Poetry

I Honour All The Useless Things

Be first to rate

Poetry

So This Short Night May Longer Stay

Be first to rate

More

I HONOUR ALL THE USELESS THINGS

Translated by: Вадим Банев

Be first to rate

It's been a while now, I collec

the things that others throw away.

When sun burns flowers into specks I

sweep the remnants on my tray.

I watch the wax of candles burning.

At night I see them melting down,

and drops, like summer yearly turning,

I catch them lest they hit the ground.

Of every ruined dwelling wall

the bricks I set for more precision, I

put them back to raise a home for

all the ageing homing pigeons.

From every past event that was

I pull apart my own reply and

take it as a new surprise that

on that day I was alive. I have

it all together tied,

by hand I organize the atoms. I'm

born again or else just die amid

the slew of useless fathoms.


 

The PlovdivLit site is a creative product of "Plovdiv LIK" foundation and it`s object of copyright.
Use of hyperlinks to the site, editions, sections and specific texts in PlovdivLit is free.

© PlovdivLit 2020