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
by T. P. Sabitha translated from the Malayalam by the poet first published in Mathrubhoomi (Sept. 14-20, 2008) To Omana and Gopalakrishnan – translators extraordinaire from Russian into Malayalam – for the gift of a Soviet childhood All of a sudden a pelican landed on our verandah. The river Volga rushed along circling the deity in […]
I bought This dress, thinking Finally I’m sure, if not Of who, at least of what I am. I sashayed (sort of) around The boardwalk in it, beside VA beach, And I’m sure you’ve Never seen so many navy boys, Waves of them, blooming Out of the silk-white suits, nearly Blotting out the waves— Now […]
In the terracotta urn,
you have severed
yourself,
