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The Rider and the Night
                                                                To Victoria
And the black, and the green black-and-tan spankers…
And the darkness of life, and the walk!
I was eager for a touch, I was anxious
Taking a glance at the back of the wall.
As a beggar on horseback I scaled.
Then the lasso I flung at the manes.
And from gladness and fear I failed,
And I fainted in bloody-red planes.
It’s a dream: black-and-green spankers were spurring.
How incredible. Mad. Unrestrained.
And it flew, and it flew – like a circus –
My vermilion death on those manes!
O my life – I’m the black-and-green rider!
I’m the lunatic who you did hang!
You can hear the pangs of the dying mustang
Begging the kiss of the night on the stripes.
But you see – now the blood of the rain
Is descending from Heaven to Hell…
And the darkness of life, and the pain
Of death are just hoofs pawing in gel!
                             Translated by Anton Baev

The Bulgarian Season
Winter this year was late
And spring didn’t brake,
Not to speak about summer.
Just autumn linger on
Like someone mortally ill,
Without any strength to die.
             Translated by Rumen Genchev