• Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to main content
  • Skip to primary sidebar
  • Skip to footer

MAYDAY

  • Culture
  • Interviews
  • Reviews
  • Nonfiction
    • Contests
  • Translation
  • Fiction
  • Poetry
  • About
    • Submit
      • Contests
      • Contest Winners
      • MAYDAY:Black
    • Open Positions
    • Masthead
    • Contributors

Nobody cries / for the rock by Valentin Dishev (translated by Katerina Stoykova-Klemer)

October 1, 2013 Contributed By: Katerina Stoykova-Klemer, Valentin Dishev

Nobody cries
for the rock
turned into a statue.
There is no one to mourn
the statue,
on its patient way
to dust…

I want to praise the scar.
You shall know them by their scars.

*     *     *

Никой не плаче
за камъка,
превръщан в статуя.
Няма кой да оплаче
статуята,
по търпеливия път
към прахта…

Искам да възпея белега.
По белезите им ще ги познаете.

 

Return to table of contents for Issue 7 Summer 2013

Filed Under: Poetry, Translation Posted On: October 1, 2013

Further Reading

One Who Was Not Devoured: A Review of Liz Kay’s The Witch Tells the Story and Makes It True
by Katherine Fallon

It is no secret we are supposed to despise the witch in the traditional fairy tale, but while brutal, this witch is not lonely, nor is she pathetic, and we question whether her violence is unwarranted.

Graffiti at a Medieval Manor House Ruin in Oxfordshire
by Stephen Gibson

There were graffiti, initials, dates carved everywhere, much of it around doorjambs which had no doors; much also around window frames where the air just passed through—there was no more glass, not even shards, anywhere.   Alice S. and Robert W. visited before the Great War. They carved their initials, in 1912, with great care. […]

MEMOIR by T. R. Hummer

When they threw me into the pit, a shard of flint split my chin. I flicked it out of my jawbone and lay In my leaking heap, regarding the fineness of its flesh- incising point. Up the black chimney of my prison Vulture stars were circling, repeating all the familiar horrifying patterns. There was blood […]

Primary Sidebar

Recently Published

  • Inside the Kaleidoscope
    by Jane O. Wayne
  • Two Poems by Luis Alberto de Cuenca
    translated from the Spanish by Gustavo Pérez Firmat
  • I Hope Your Birthday Is So Beautiful, It Hurts to Look at It
    by Josette Akresh-Gonzales
  • Concerning My Daughter by Kim Hye-jin
    translated from the Korean by Jamie Chang,
    reviewed by Jacqueline Schaalje
  • Verge
    by William Cordeiro

Trending

  • Eight Contemporary Female Irish Artists to Fall In Love With Immediately
    by Aya Kusch
  • George Saunders on A Swim in a Pond in the Rain
    by Brianna Di Monda
  • Sellouts 1970: Love Story: The Year a Screenplay-Turned-Novel Almost Broke the National Book Award
    by Kirk Sever
  • Cool Uncle
    by Emmett Knowlton
  • I Know Who Orville Peck Is
    by Robin Gow
  • Painting to Empower: An Interview with Artist Harmonia Rosales
    by Aya Kusch
  • This field is for validation purposes and should be left unchanged.

Footer

  • Facebook
  • Instagram
  • Twitter

Business


Reprint Rights
Privacy Policy
Archive

Engage


Open Positions
Donate
Contact Us

Copyright © 2023 · New American Press

  • This field is for validation purposes and should be left unchanged.