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CHILDHOOD
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I'll make myself a kite
of the July Sun,
running against the wind with it.
When I get breathless, I'll tie it
to the poplar tree
on the threshing ground
I'll scatter the corn ears,
the ripened corncobs of memories.
The years like wild horses
will rush assunder,
their hard hooves beating
a persistent rhythm,
scarlet sweat bathing
their backs of silk
and silver.
I'll look for something
light and pure,
for the magic grain of happiness.
Once I am done, I'll let the Sun go
at his own will.
While down, on the cracked
threshing ground
the strange image of the Sun-God
will remain engraved.
© Maxim Maximov
© Bojidara Pavlova, translated from Bulgarian
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© LiterNet Publishing House, 23.02.2021
Maxim Maximov. Bravado. Varna: LiterNet, 2021
Other publications:
Maxim Maximov. Bravado. Los Angeles: Triumvirate Publications, 1999.
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