Back to: [A Declaration of Failure][Marin Bodakov][SLOVOTO]

Each morning the greenish twitter of death wakes me up,

Gushing from the garden.

The alveoli are enthralled.

An angel crosses my sore beddings.

I want to overcome the story of his college body,

But nothing else I taste in memories of us.

Back to: [A Declaration of Failure][Marin Bodakov][SLOVOTO]

© 2002Marin Bodakov. All rights reserved!

Translated from Bulgarian by Zornitsa Hristova © 2002. All rights reserved!