We people by Nedyalko Yordanov traslated by Ann WoodWE, PEOPLE
We are born ... We live ...
We hate and cry ... We love and sing ...
We age quickly and die slowly.
And surprisingly we don't understand each other ...
We are still here ... We are still alive!
Evil. Cruel. Good. Merciful.
Gentle. And rude. Terribly selfish.
And noble ... Identical ... Different ...
People ... Humans ... God created
the absurd mixture of Sun and Mud.
Time is running out.
The weather doesn't like us at all.
The weather - ah, the naughty horse -
graze our bodies branch by branch ...
However, we should not give up!
We don't care that we are getting old!
Here we are - look! As it looks like
we can still! .. There is hope!
And to discover that God has given us
more Sun, less Mud.
Poetry by Ann Wood
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Written on 2020-10-06 at 15:19
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