Предсказано / Foretold

                   

- Чакай, циганко!

  Предскажи ми!

  Мъка?

  Радост?

  Забрава?

  Любов?

  Като камък в душата тежи ми

  и горчи ми най-сладкият плод.

              

              

               - Виждам, чедо!

               Пътечка на щастие.

               Ти по нея ще ходиш до гроб.

               Криволичи.

               Тук... малко по-тясна е...

               През пустинята –

               истински брод.

               Знай, ще срещаш

               и мъка,

               и радост,

               и забрава,

               и луда любов.

               Виждам...

               ...образ на мъж...

               Тук. Отляво.

               Той ти дава най-сладкият плод.

                           
                ОТ "И ТЪРСЯ ОГЛЕДАЛО ЗА ДУШАТА..."  БИСЕРКА КАМЕНОВА

                – Wait, gypsy woman!
                Tell my fortune by the cards!
                Joy?
                Oblivion?
                Sorrow?
                Love daze?
                It weighs from far back heavy on my heart –
                To me the sweetest fruit has just a bitter taste.

               – I see, my child –
                A path of happiness!
                You’ll walk along it to the bitter end. 
                It twists across. 
                Here ... it’s a bit unmapped... 
                But through the desert sands – 
                A ford to cross… 
                Look, you will meet
                Joy,
                Oblivion,
                Sorrow,
                And love boots… 
                I see an...
                ... image of a man... 
                Here, on the left. 
                He’s giving you the sweetest fruit.

                            

                Translated from Bulgarian by Georgi Venin

Животът скрит е в ... / Life is hidden in ...

***

Животът скрит е в дребните неща,

в жест най-обикновен, ала човешки.

В любима песен, слушана в нощта

с човек, умеещ да прощава грешки.

В усмивката на влюбени очи,

която търсиш твоя ден да сгрее.

В забравата на смелите мечти,

когато правиш опит за летене.

В стремежа да запазиш своя дух

свободен в несвободното ни време.

Да не виниш за всичко някой друг.

Да не превръщаш обичта във бреме.

Във ручеите топли на кръвта.

В сълзите непринудено родени.

Най-истински са дребните неща –

и те остават в спомена след време.

Бисерка Каменова

***

Life is hidden in the small fry,

In plain gestures, decent tips,

In songs being listened in the night

With someone who can forgive a slip,

In the smile of one’s eyes in love

That erases your old seams,

In a try to fly high as a dove

Hooked on a wild dream,

In the pursuit to keep spirit

Free in unchained time,

Not accuse distorting mirrors

And turn love into half-rhymes,

In the tears spontaneously cried,

In the blood hot streams and tides.

Most genuine is life’s small fry –

And it keeps the living tight.

Biserka Kamenova 

Translated from Bulgarian by Georgi Venin

Do not argue my right to be different

Do not argue my right

To be different.

To speak,

Think

And to write

Not the way that you do.

I cannot

And would not be

Either false,

Or lay-figured.

Let me have

In excess

Reason,

Passion –

And will, too.

Human troubles

Have crossed swords in my days.

Scheduled fates

In a row …

I’ve no right to be heartless

In these times of hard claims

And to watch with indifference

Souls resisting a blow.

Destination enjoins me

To keep on

Being different.

To speak,

Think

And to write

Not the way that you do.

And my son

Will derive it from me –

As if mirrored –

To speak,

Think

And to argue aloud

Boldly you.

                                       Translated from Bulgarian by Georgi Venin