Public Republic

Aksinia Mihailova

Photo: twoblueday

In the most deserted area
of the beach
among the rows of
thatched umbrellas
with an open book in my lap
I run my eyes over the pages
“mother, in your womb
you had prepared my dead mask”
I am trying to accept
mankind’s imperfection
and the thought
that I had carried
the death beneath my heart
for the whole nine months
and while my daughter
is building sand castles
never giving in to the sea
I feel somehow resigned

contemplating
how perfect
the death in its youth could be,
how unbound

Translated from Bulgarian by Roumiana Tiholova