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Of Butterflies, of Caterpillars

17 February, 2010 от · No comments

Kerana Angelova Photo: HaPe_Gera Caterpillars wriggle And creep fluffily It’s difficult to believe Their mother is the butterfly With oriental eyes Her wings made of ashes and beams of light Her flight above oval meadows As aslant as the dance of souls Butterflies have such a lot of Sky to fly And What a lot […]

With its death

11 January, 2010 от · No comments

Bojidar Pangelov Photo: neofito With its death the day gilds                 the leaves. I know the names of                 the tree and it doesn’t matter for                 beauty. Translated from Bulgarian by Katerina Stoykova-Klemer

Metallic Flash

15 December, 2009 от · 3 comments

Chantal Bizzini Photo: The Pug Father Water battled light yet they played and the broken shells didn’t wound their feet the wall fell, wall of water on this bleached city, fortified with reefs and flats on the stink of algae mixed with torn boards, tires, corkscrews, gloves of discolored rubber, plastic debris, heaps of rope […]

Celebration

14 November, 2009 от · No comments

Chantal Bizzini Photo: I’ll Never Grow Up Flowers explode, stars, sea serpents, Medusas, rise up, flower to purge their being, disperse their form, their color, to be, after the elation, no more than stem of smoke refallen in the violet-blue water of the bay. Goodfellows, monsters, flakes of gold, one after another, surge, disappear… children […]

Fear

8 April, 2009 от · No comments

Bozhana Apostolova Снимка: crystalina Lord, what a huge void domain between stamens and constellations – shining chasms of scents, dimmed galactic abysmal spaces. And amidst them, without end resounds the deafening calm, uninhabited by eyes, by bees, wings and handpalms… There is no place for vacuum under the sky anymore… The world will simply collapse […]

Workday

17 March, 2009 от · No comments

Bozhana Apostolova Photo: Per Ola Wiberg Get up early. Carry on your shoulders the concern about the seed yesterday sown. Everyday there is something unfinished to be done: a cut conversation, an unfinished poem. Everyday there is something that has yet to be born or conceived. Go along the hard road of water and bread— […]

A Dead Doe in the Wild

11 October, 2008 от · No comments

Unknown Author, c. 600BC Photo: I’mClaude a dead doe in the wild shrouded in white reeds there is a girl, spring-longing a gentleman to seduce her