Public Republic

Kristin Dimitrova

Photo: s.e.re

Now I feel easy
because I expect nothing.
The roughly polished glass
of the North Sea
is far off, yet through
a roundabout way
reaching the equator.
Africa (blue nomads
among men-eating sands)
a week ago
lent its back to a Leonid shower:
stars fell
piercing through hot and cold
atmospheric layers
and people in countries
with unclouded skies
made wishes.
The papers say that in China
a falling star killed a man.
I think I know
what he wished.
It is possible.

Translated into English by Gregory O’Donoghue