to my brother
Everything is still the same
after the midpoint of our lives just passed-
we buy apples
at the market next to the train station,
a kilogram of corn seeds to be sown by our father,
some seedlings of petunias for our mother.
Fifteen minutes embrace
a few Saturdays spent together
at different platforms.
And as we’re stirring up our silence
at the bottom of the plastic coffee cups,
the petunias bloom
as big as the bells of the village church
and start tolling above the roofs,
twice for mama, thrice for papa,
corn is rising into the sky,
where a tired boat
struggles to tear down
the chain of clouds.
When you embrace me
before saying goodbye,
in the fading blue
of your eyes I read with hesitation
that nothing
except our blood
is still the same.
Aksinia Mihaylova (born 1963) Bulgaria
Translated by Roumiana Tiholova
Source: Verseville
Everything is still the same
after the midpoint of our lives just passed-
we buy apples
at the market next to the train station,
a kilogram of corn seeds to be sown by our father,
some seedlings of petunias for our mother.
Fifteen minutes embrace
a few Saturdays spent together
at different platforms.
And as we’re stirring up our silence
at the bottom of the plastic coffee cups,
the petunias bloom
as big as the bells of the village church
and start tolling above the roofs,
twice for mama, thrice for papa,
corn is rising into the sky,
where a tired boat
struggles to tear down
the chain of clouds.
When you embrace me
before saying goodbye,
in the fading blue
of your eyes I read with hesitation
that nothing
except our blood
is still the same.
Aksinia Mihaylova (born 1963) Bulgaria
Translated by Roumiana Tiholova
Source: Verseville
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please keep your comments relevant and free from abusive language. Thank you. Note that comments are moderated so it may be a day or two before your comment is posted - irrelevant or abusive comments will not be published.