SILKWORM

You all but grazed the stranger's proud beard
/ Oh, you brave Marco Polo!/
more unsatiable than the children of China,
so many leaves you've ruined,
mulberry moans heard
in the dark,
jaws munch,
it runs
up and down,
up and down,
with small gouty legs,
it looks around,
growls
seized with nutritive spasms,
rages
and grows – grows…
one jaw striving
to bite off the other,
dark fire in the eyes,
but
suddenly
the spring night resounds
with a silky drone –
it twists
and spins
and winds shapes,
winding mystically,
snorting in the dark,
ripening blissfully
more and more



***

And angels would lift me with their velvet nails
Above the town of Sozopol at dusk.
Above the sunset with eyelashes of sand,
Above the warm mysterious port.

And dolphins would suddenly weep for me
Far off deep into the sea.
The phosphorous brains sparkling in the dusk –
From loneliness to horror.

And a wind would come scattering the days.
And in the shades of ancient fig – tress
My soul would tiptoe out of the town
Under the frightened whispering of stars.

B.T.



NIGTH COAST

A sudden moon crawled out – repulsive, nude, inspired…
The universe flared in flames of fiery brocade…
Feet stick in the sand, on their ritual beat
Huge birds pecked the bottomless sky – sieve greedily.
To taste the unobtainable…How sweet is the desire
Before you press your lips, before you close your eyes!

In a chilly cave man longs for a ray
Until he kneels before that calm and silent space.
Bats squeaking nearby, darting now like wizards.
Oh, please, where's the entrance? Is this the way out?
Feet stuck in the sand. And all around – white shells.
We are like stalagmites amid decaying jelly.

B.T.



TELEPHONE BOX

It says nothing. Yet it knows:
The only witness to rows and forgotten midnight blows,
Sobbing drunkards, trembling stiffened joints in the cold
Sprinkled with autumn leaves and fouled raindrops;
Men running from themselves and women saving
Their weary bodies from rage – by fraud;
A voice stuffing the plastic membrane
With feverish breath, odd sounds, words, sentences
And laughter, overtaken by the next wave…
And here, at the corner,
Sometimes mercifully warmed up by the sun,
It looks like a jacked – up toy.
Snow will cover it to the top
And I will be safe inside –
Having lost all, but gained everything,
With my overflowing youthful voice,
A choked – back sob on the way – but why ?

B.T.



BALAD OF THE NAMELESS BUILDER

After the panegyric we built a fairy temple.
But who could spoil our feast? It's always the lonely man.
He sticks out in the chorus, his soul remaining silent,
Yet with resistance showing in wistful eyes.
The pyramids endure and it's he who knows it best.
Eternity and glory…But the ruler appears to be deathless.
And sycophants escort him and paint his portrait again and again.
I also scrutinized the emptiness of the painting.
Among all the nameless mortals he was the one to be chosen.
But who is it that all day long breaks the white gigantic stones?
When the Sphinx begins to speak, then fades away in the mist
You'll see a silent nation in a century – long sleep.
Surely a wrathful flame should flash from the celestial eye –
Man is born with a cry. His life marked by guilt,
Confessing alien sins and harboring pretence,
With a hovering halo – an O about his stubborn head.
And yet the sand germs sprout. The wind blows in vain –
Across the distant future – the grains of pyramid – days.
The tomb was made by people. And surely it has doors.
It's us who are immortalized by an mortal Pharaoh.