FLAUBERT’S INTERIOR

LONELINESS
IS A FORGOTTEN PIANO in a home,
where the children
already grew up.
Nobody remembers it
– don’t talk –
as for a dead man to whom all we have sin…
But sometimes,
usually in the evening
the lid opens
and on the white piano keys
she starts dancing.
And the candle flame
multiplies
its shadow.

 

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Rumen Shomov
Translated by Dessy Tsvetkova
Picture Nick Victor

 

 

 

 

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One Response to FLAUBERT’S INTERIOR

    1. Love this poem❤️

      Comment by Malcolm Paul on 1 February, 2025 at 7:53 am

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