Vladimir Martinovski



Be first to rate



Be first to rate



Translated by: Kalina Janeva

Be first to rate

When you’re gone, I suddenly turn into a sunflower without the sun,

In a book without letters, home without doors, rain without drops,

A double bass with no strings, a tricycle without the front wheel,

A clock without hands, a verse without an ancient metric foot,


Into chocolate without the cocoa, a city with no boulevard,

A giraffe without a neck, an orchestra with no conductor,

A condor without feathers, a street without a footway,

Into a sculpture with neither a head nor a pedestal.


When you’re gone, I’m a nut without the kernel,

A bee without a drop of honey, or a selfish

Little cricket that’s misplaced its violin.


And when I’m with you, I’m merely

A man who conceals so readily

All the things he used to be.

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