ROZA BOYANOVA THE HONEY OF POETRY To Liliya Naumova A woman exquisite like an antique verse and meek like a piece of wisdom. I eavesdrop on gods, for centuries they argue about her. The curve of the wrist breaks her cold perfection. She is there-at the bottom of your voice, in the residue- like uninvited fate. Allow ecstasy to wrest you out of the root to splash you about- ecstasy alone can do it- like heavy mellow wine! To a wing clings the soul. A woman like an antique verse… Translated by Petyo Peychev