Vlado Lubenov


Fair women blessed me in my life, -
real, colorful... and yet,
I am waiting for the one to cry
in the last of days above my bed.

I will sip a last dose of the drug
that reliefs my pain at night,
and as I release the mug,
she will come all dressed in white.

She will see the blinking tube,
and with fingers stroke my hair,
"Yes... I know you - you pursued
and extolled so gently beauty's flare..."

I will trust this hanging breast,
and the fingers' warm intent,
and will know that I can rest
after such a pitiful lament.

"Is there something I can do..."
she will say before she cries.
"Strip, so I remember you!"
I will say before the night...

Button after button then
youth and body she will show...
Seizing beauty once again
I will stay in life in whole!

With the snow outside that year,
trees and leaves will glow in blue.
Gulping down the sweetest tears,
I will shut the blinking tube...

Last Dose - translated by Ivaylo Vasilev




I behave too ill, too evil,
I'm not a poet, I'm not a bard!
And it's quite imperative -
For Tibet I must depart!

And after non-stop meditations -
I'l get better (That's my plan!)
And when I really grasp some patience -
I'l return a perfect man!


Every evening I bolt the door,
With fear, atavistic, black.
Check my bed to bottom once more,
With a knife in hand, so, forth and back,

And I inspect with instant care,
Every corner and gloomy place.
I haven't only checked myself!
And, it should be namely there!


Some day, like this black vase,
I�m going to break into pieces, Dead.
Throw some flowers and then pass,
No matter is it of love or hate.

Throw me out, torn in pieces,
on the dump, my final bed!
Really, things are very simple,
And so is life and death!

translated by Vlado Lubenov



On the rocking chair
In the balmy room again
Your legs are swaying bare
And I read Monten.

The fire like a foil
Beams its russet flares
Drawing shadows on the ceiling
Like a halo glares.

On your seat you keep on swinging
Gaze through me outside
And from bluish gully
Howls the wind tonight.

How blissfully this chair
Creaks with slight refrain
Now in sol, and now - si flat:
“Sleep in my domain!”

“Sleep in me, but day by day
I am left misunderstood
You adore not me
But a sexless wood!

I will snatch the chair
being mad and grieved
I will smash it into pieces
Feeling quite relieved…

But you keep on smiling
Sense the peace again
In the balmy room
I drink a tea, I read Monten…

translated by Maria Petrova


© Ivailo Vasilev, Vlado Lubenov, Maria Petrova, translated