In memory of 54 people who lost their lives, 9 of them in fire and 45 in a car accident. May they rest in peace.


MY SOUL IS BLOODING translated by Ann Wood

MY SOUL IS BLOODING
In memory of the dead elderly people in the village of Royak and the 45 victims of the Struma Motorway
Human destiny is only a guest
through the fragile gates of life,
painted with a drop of time to be a bridge
over storms and ominous dark ebbs,
designed to fly, not to crawl
wounded and burned in their days,
to shed tears of sorrow and tears,
to look for a way in a ray or in a flash ...
And you, dear people, in the hour of fire
you melted with your footsteps and wounds ...
My soul bleeds without a voice for you
for the breath burned in flames,
for the looks of a child, for a cry
pulverized and a pile of silent coals
Whatever I say in words
it will be a minor utterance.
Life catastrophes are crowding,
misfortunes and calamities bring us down.
I shout with a request - the suffering world
may we redeem with the good of God!
Stefania Tsankova




Poetry by Ann Wood The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2021-11-24 at 14:15

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