Alexander Banderov

Poetry

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More

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Translated by: Alexandrina Delova

4.18   (11 votes)

Now I stare inside myself.

Everything hidden will come

To the innocent surface.

Both poverty and inherited wealth.

Forgotten sobs and moans,

Grains of laughter, buried in the dust.

Perceptions,

Unaccomplished thought, vices,

Emerged and scattered worlds.

Treasures of uncertain value.

 

I”ll gather in an decent oneness

Discord between languages, illogical and holy

And it will form both images and mixes

For nobody to do the same in him.

 

Now I'm all alone

And I may afford it all.

To discover and to recreate myself

And get as drunk as saylor.

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