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Slow train coming

  The space is pervaded with green, with the chirping of birds and the sweet smell of pollen. We are in the countryside of Dordogne, and it would be difficult for anyone to find a more idyllic setting. In general, I try not to read the news, especially here, but whenever I do, that idyllic image is replaced by another one: the slow train, picking up speed downhill. The machine engineers are incompetent and instead of stopping it and repairing the faults with care, they keep on loading it with coal. Its lights are on in the darkness; they illuminate only the small patch in front, so the passengers could see the end, but only in a fashion.  Why are we in a such a hurry to destroy our civilisation? Do we have so much that we are bored with it? There was this boredom in the air before the epidemic in 2020. I had the feeling that people, especially the young ones, were waiting eagerly for something to happen. Anything. Just not that day after day boredom. They were trying to shake it off –
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At the End of 2022

 

Another year's leaving! 


I believed... I wanted... and I lost some things ...

I kept on falling, getting up... 

I cried out of joy... and out of sadness... 

I kept forgetting... and forgiving... 

I smiled... and I was sad... 

I had my ups... I had my downs... 

But kept on going forward...

Some things I lost... 

And I received some things... 

One thing however now I know with certanty:

As the years pile in person's life, 

the list of things that one desires shrinks.

And at the end there is only what cannot be bought with money left. 


Valery Petrov






This is a very imperfect translation of a short poem of the Bulgarian poet Valery Petrov (1919-2014), who is revered as the master of modern Bulgarian poetry. A poet, a translator, a journalist and a script writer, he was very well known and loved in Bulgaria. When I was a student, we knew his lyrics by hearth and often recited them out laud. In spite his Socialist believes, he became at odds with the Communist party after refusing to sign an official petition denouncing the awarding of Nobel Prize for literature to Solzhenitsyn in 1970. He was not allowed to publish so instead he took on translating the complete works of Shakespeare in verse - a colossal work that took him 10 years to finish. His relationship with the post Communist regime in Bulgaria did not seem to be much better either and in his later poems he openly refers to mafia-style capitalism in present-day Bulgaria. Petrov died in 2014 at age of 92 and although he said in one of his poems "There’s nothing in our life today that makes me happy to have lived to 92', the people of Bulgaria are grateful that he lived that long and gave us not only his poetry but also his wonderful translations and his love to Bulgarian language. As he puts it in an interview, his only regret is 'that my language is so small that I can’t show its beauty to the world'.

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