LAZARINKA ~Poems~ By Kean Ghiero & L. Aleksandrova
AFTER THE RAIN
B софия, a woman with wet hair, sits beside the fire, writing of the rain subdued into puddles, in bottomless silence.
В Амстердам a man sits beside a window, writing of the night dripping over the city, muttering in a homeless darkness.
In Sofia жена с мокра коса седи до огъня и пише за дъжда, сломен под локвите, в бездънна тишина. In Amsterdam мъж лее мастило до прозореца и слуша как дъжда прокапва над града, бърборейки в бездомна тъмнина.
SOMETIMES, WISHING TO BE A DOG
Tell me of the baroque bustle of winter embroidering the chill on the windowpane, the warmth vapors curling out of a black chocolateâ€™s cup, how the smoke tangles up towards the light. Tell me of the cookies smelling vanilla like your hands, under Edoâ€™s canine gaze of joy or I will never know.
SHOT ON TARGET
Suddenly, my eyes sealed your silhouette in a blinding flash. A Light pierced me as a bullet that still resounds in me, but, you did not kill me: you saved me.
Flickering candles sink in the Ganges: one of them is mine.
I met Kean, sailing on a paper boat, amongst floating lotuses and I was born breath by breath,
clean, transparent like a teardrop, a light in the night, on this sacred river, on which, we all drift awhile. Flickering candles sink in the Ganges: one of them is his.