Public Republic

Kristin Dimitrova

Translated from the Bulgarian by Katerina Stoykova-Klemer

Photo: Andreas Schauer-Villanueva

Noah told it differently.

To the Jewish delegation
he said that he freed the pigeon and
it brought back a branch.

The pigeon is the white herald of joy. It is the pure soul of the innocent and
foretells the beginning of a new life.

The forefathers approved the story
and adopted it.

To Gilgamesh, however, he’d spoken like this:

I freed a pigeon, but it returned.
I freed a swallow—same thing.
Finally I freed a crow and
never saw it again.
Then I realized it had discovered
both loot and land.

The crow is the black warrior among the birds. Flying against the good sky, it
is the first witness of the last transformation.

Gilgamesh understood this language.

When he was alone,
Noah said to himself:

“There is no way,
truth does not make a good legend,
yet legend is truth’s only carrier.”

He clearly remembered: it was actually the flies
that found the ship.