Category: Translations from Bulgarian

Ако си дал / If You Have Given

If You Have Given (Ilya Velchev, translated by Petko Hinov) If you have given to the hungry even a crumble from your bread If you have given to the traveller even a sparkle from your hearth If you have given to a dear one a piece of your heart If you have give to a stranger a breath from your life If you have given, if you have given if you have given anything you haven’t lived, you haven’t lived in vain. Refrain: Nobody can ever deprive you of their love- the love of the people. Nobody can ever take it away from you- the love of the people. Nobody and nothing will take it away from you – your faith in them your faith in them your faith in them. You often are late, o Truth, but you always come, yes, you always come to us. If you have stolen from another man’s glory even a crumble, If you have heeded gossip and repeat it even a second,…

Bulgarian Poetry in English: D. Debelyanov — Remember, remember…

Remember? Remember the quiet old yard, The quiet old house in the white cherry blooms?— Oh, please, do not shimmer in my prisoned heart Meaningless mem’ries and faraway glooms— For I am imprisoned behind gloomy bars, Meaningless mem’ries and faraway glooms For my own dishonour is my trusted guard And my castigation—a past that still looms. Remember? Recall in the quiet old yard The whispers and laughs in the white cherry blooms?— Oh, please, do not wake up the luminous choir The choir of Angels—a past that still looms— I am but imprisoned behind gloomy bars, Meaningless mem’ries and faraway glooms, A dream, oh, a dream was the quiet old yard, A dream were the cherries afloat in white blooms! D. Debelyanov, (c) 2015, Translated by Petko Hinov, 20 August, 2015, Bogatovo Подобни статии | 相关文章:…

One Ordinary Evening

By Petko Hinov From the original Bulgarian essay: http://petkohinov.com/?p=1134 One ordinary evening. The rains showered, the clouds melted and of them remained only serenely-white tatters—now they drift away like the minutes of a clock and wipe away the last raindrops from the serenely-blue heaven. Kathy fell asleep in my embrace. I took her outside—to let her breathe the cool air of the fields while sleeping. Everything is melting outside—the evening is melting, the sunset is melting, the clouds are melting, the silence is melting, the birdsongs are melting. My life is melting and in this ceaseless, ever more obvious melting, I cherish the dearness of this moment. This moment is dear to me, because I contemplate it from the future. I have returned back in time forty years. This sleeping two-year old child—it is I.…