(BG)

 

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The New Sentimentality


How did I win

Without the calm traveling blanket

And the shy provisions of the dream,

The licenses of memory?

 

Embryos of mist float above the paper,

Smoke condenses into pills and ointments,

A pinch of anxiety shatters the comforts of home -

Why this particular game?

 

I won through absentmindedness,

My folly completely baffled my adversaries

And now I feel the real clash is elsewhere.

 


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Translated from Bulgarian by Zornitsa Hristova © 2002. All rights reserved!


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