
So many things the eyes
saw
strained to the point of bursting
half-naked children
smiling
slept in cardboard boxes
(the air disintegrated)
empty decks
of ships
full of hands
warped doors
the other faces beyond
and I went blind
I curled up at a thought’s distance
I stood lower than a flower
lower than expectations
and lower than the murmur
on the border where
the trap’s teeth snap
the marble columns
or the animals
gnaw themselves to pieces
in fact
every action is meaningless
(the spirit is restless
but the Soul is a Church)
strength is drained
by conversations with the dead
this is what Odysseus was telling
after his return
from that river
without drinking
and our oblation
of bread
and of words
and of humility
.
Bozhidar Pangelov
Bulgaria
translated by Liliya Gauchi
.
