You asked to have me too?
I’m a lilac, after all… or were I?
You don’t believe, that until recently
I smelled and bloomed
Greedy hands were reaching out to me
They picked and tore, and took my bloom away
My odor… stolen by the wind
My leaves…
A mist desired them, eyes watering
And so I gave
But to a cloud she ran away
And built a nest from them
My branches…
Caressed by frost-bitten beggar
She too asked to have them
I gave again
She put them to the fire
You asked to have me too?
I’m a lilac, after all… or were I?
Ever seen the aroma and the bloom of sin?
Your eyes perhaps caught too much light or tears?
Are you disappointed; maybe bored? Don’t go.
It seems there’s nothing left for you but you are wrong
Beneath your feet, buried deep within the soil
My root is dwelling waiting for the spring
The last and best of me
I hid and kept it just because
I’m a lilac, after all… or were I?
If you’d like I’ll show you how I used to bloom
Where are you going
Wait
Don’t you want me anymore
Aug 20, 2017
Aug 20, 2017 at 12:00 PM UTC
You asked to have me too?
I’m a lilac, after all… or were I?
You don’t believe, that until recently
I smelled and bloomed
Greedy hands were reaching out to me
They picked and tore, and took my bloom away
My odor… stolen by the wind
My leaves…
A mist desired them, eyes watering
And so I gave
But to a cloud she ran away
And built a nest from them
My branches…
Caressed by frost-bitten beggar
She too asked to have them
I gave again
She put them to the fire
You asked to have me too?
I’m a lilac, after all… or were I?
Ever seen the aroma and the bloom of sin?
Your eyes perhaps caught too much light or tears?
Are you disappointed; maybe bored? Don’t go.
It seems there’s nothing left for you but you are wrong
Beneath your feet, buried deep within the soil
My root is dwelling waiting for the spring
The last and best of me
I hid and kept it just because
I’m a lilac, after all… or were I?
If you’d like I’ll show you how I used to bloom
Where are you going
Wait
Don’t you want me anymore
Author: Valeri Dimitrov; translation from Bulgarian: Gabriel burnS;
This translation was done with the special permission of the author.
Original poem:
Люляк
И ти ли ме поиска?
Все пак люляк съм. Или пък... бях?
Не вярвяш, че до скоро и ухаех, и цъфтях...
Към мене алчно се протягаха ръцете.
Беряха, късаха... отнесоха ми цветовете.
Уханието ми? Откраднаха го ветровете.
Листата ми?
Поиска ги една мъгла със капещи очи.
Дадох ги.
А тя при облака избяга. С листата ми гнездо си сви.
Клоните ми?
Премръзналата просякиня ги погали.
И тя ме молеше.
Дадох ги.
А тя със клоните ми огън си запáли.
И ти ли ме поиска?
Все пак люляк съм. Или пък... бях?
Виждала ли си разцъфнал и ухаещ грях?
Май нещо свети във очите ти. Сълзиш?
Разочарована? Или си отегчена? Недей да си вървиш!
За тебе нищо не било останало? - Грешиш!
В краката ти, там долу във пръстта,
Коренът ми упорито чака пролетта.
Последното от мен, но най-доброто.
Скрито. Тайно... Пазих го, защото...
Все пак люляк съм. Или пък... бях?
Искаш ли да ти покажа как цъфтях?...
Къде отиваш?
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Чакай!
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Не ме ли искаш вече?... , ,, , ,
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