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May 2011
It is silent like a prayer.
All the words are lost
and so are all the roads,
which lead to nowhere.
My arm is folding yours
as if an impossibility.
And softly the night is coming.

Тихо е като молитва

Тихо е като молитва.
Изгубени са всички думи
и всички пътища,
които някъде отвеждат.
Ръката ми обгръща твоята
тъй както невъзможност.
И меко идва вечер.


Translator Bulgarian-English: Vessislava Savova
rarebird
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Bozhidar Pangelov
Written by
Bozhidar Pangelov
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