Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Сънят е мой гост

Унасям се дълбоко, сънят е мой гост.
Кръвта ми - френско вино, вдигам тост!
„Да се слави твойто име и твойто царство,
измамен Господар на благото слово.“

Но, защо ли, питам аз, точно ти- 
измамен ангеле, с коварните очи, 
си моят най- желан и чест гостенин?
А усещам, ставаш мой душманин!

Словото ти е красиво, златно и омайно.
Но отвътре - мрачно, подло и коварно.
„Сънят съм аз, церя всички човешки рани!
Но играеш ли си с мен, може да боли.“

Ах, излекувай мойта рана, дълбока!
Като ранен звяр, със съдбата си жестока.
Бъди мой другар, приятел, просто спри!
Болката ми вътре, някак изцери.



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Thursday, April 24, 2014

A letter


“Dear Sam,

  You’re the only person I’ve got left! Everyone fled when they understood! You know what, only you are there, like a star in the cloudless sky, for me.  Only you will understand, only you know how it feels. You are the last person I can share my pain with. Sam… she’s gone! She’s away! She left me. She fled like the others… Do you know how I feel now? Can you only imagine what is it? Hm, Sam, it’s April and outside is snowing! Perhaps with you it’s not, seems the weather suffers with me, it feels my thoughts. What was I telling you... yeah, I think this is the last time I write you. No, don’t struggle, you know you can’t stop me, you are the only one who knew me - no one else: my parents live in another universe, my friends - on another planet. Haha, nooo, I am not going insane, I just realized I don’t have any friends… I had Her. She was my God, my goal, my destiny, my life, my friends. She was the meaning of my existence… she was the haze after a summer storm. Only memories, Sam, only memories for this is the purpose of memories: to abandon the present, to leave “now” and to seek into the black, stinking tunnel of the past. Memories hurt, if there is a Satan, he is the memories. Memories burn, memories make you feel drunk and sick, sick of this never-ending tape… how beautiful she was when I was lying on the warm sand and my feet were caressed by the waves. How beautiful was her scent when I was running in the pine forest, my lungs were full of pine-cones, resin and some strange scent of some flowers, my eyes were filled with green, brown, mushrooms, little stones. See now, memories only burn your heart. Sam, Sam, she left me, she was taken away! What? What did you think? No, no… what girl do you mean? No, Sam, I wasn’t talking about a girl. You know me! I am not so superficial, damn! I was talking about her - the Freedom. The most beautiful, magical, fabulous and meaningful thing in my life. I lost my Freedom, you fool. What is love to an eagle without wings, what means a beautiful girl to an artist without hands? This is what I lost…

Now there is only darkness, endless gloom, no light, nothing and bars… scary, cold, iron bars. And people, many people like me, people who lost something. Empty bodies which are carried helplessly in the mighty spring torrent. No air, no hope, no future, only… bars.

Sam, now you understand. She is not here, because this is the only place she can’t live. And I did it for her, because of her I am here. I just didn’t want to lose her and she fled! Why, when we appreciate a thing so much, it is often taken from us? Or we take it by ourselves, or we are the ones to do it - no devils, no magic, no cruel gods? Don’t answer, no one will ever read it. This is the last verse of my song.

Yours,

the one who loved Her”


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Thursday, April 17, 2014

Живот сред стихове


Устните ти - предзнаменование.
Дъхът ти - най-сладкото ухание.
Пред очите ми - заслепяващо сияние,
надеждите ми - силно упование.
Спирам, не дишам - а дихание 
в ушите ми, а в ръцете ми -  писание!
Нежно, бяло кокиче- моето желание,
да цъфне пред очите ми - прекрасно е!
Щом те няма теб до мен - терзание
а сянката ти бди, спомен отминал - страдание.
В шепите си сбирам сълзите - ридание!
Но стиховете лея във реката - творение.
Водопадът на живота е моето спасение.


Подобни:





Friday, April 11, 2014

I Need This




Here, my friend, is my true appeal!
Are you there, is your presence real?
No, no, you didn’t understand a man.
This is not the  thing I want, but what is then?

Don’t look at me like this, you know,
just listen to your voice, once you saw!
Don’t need your money, pity or favors,
nor to stay with me in all the dangers.

I am not asking for your kindness,
but to accept my unique madness!
Don’t give me your life, you will need it
for life is a path - long, full of sadness.

Are you ready to listen, to obey my friend?
I'm not your master, but a man with a heart.
All I need is Love, let this be a happy end!
You and me on the way to the brightest Star...

Other poems:

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Искам да избягам




Не мога да избягам, а искам да избягам,
надалеч, някъде на свобода нека излетя.
Като птица дива, в облаците чудни да се рея.
Никога да не видя отново таз непоклатима стена.


Свободен съм, а не съм, страдам някак.
Не мога да дишам, макар да имам бели дробове.
Задушава ме таз душна мъгла - всякак,
как да увия в плътен плат мойте страхове?


Как монотонието се е ширнало като зимното поле-
голо, студено, безразлично е и сивото небе..
Искаш да потънеш в  лятна влага и бризът морски,
някак да избавиш своите мъки в дебрите горски.


Аз искам да избягам, но краката ми ги няма!
Тъпа, черна, неприятна е сега мойта рана.
Свободата, загубих, другарката ми мила,
живот не е туй, нямам дори и малко сила.


Четирите стени, мрачният затвор - страшен е!
Да легнеш на студената земя без никаква надежда.
Страстта ми няма я, а тунелът - празен  е!
Сам със себе си, а мъката ми - тя безбрежна!

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Because... I believe

I write because I want to, I write because I like it, I write because I believe in the one Word, in the words which have something divine within!  I believe because believing is faith, and it is the key that unlocks any door. I believe because it’s better to do so than not to believe.


How easy it seems to believe? Isn’t it the most difficult thing at the same time? Believe! And do you? No, dear readers, not in the Bible nor the Quran, or not even in Christmas, just believe in one thing no matter what it would be. But you can’t, can you?
Personally, I don’t  believe in the Bible, I don’t believe in the sanctity of the Church either, I don’t believe in these god-anointed priests, nor the whole clique “close-to-god” people, but it doesn’t mean I don’t believe in my God. It doesn’t mean you can’t have your own, though you don’t believe in the thing you’ve been told to. Faith is not a thing to require but a choice, another choice we ought to make.

The world is a foul place, hostility, discrimination, hunger, wars, getting worse and worse, right? I believe this is about to change, I believe in the beautiful soul music, believe in the great Olympic champions who symbolize the strength and willingness of human nature. I believe in mothers who raise their kids, believe in childish caress, laughter, hug… I believe in the things I want to, and I overlook the things which don’t exist in my world.
.
Good or bad, to take offense or to laugh, to make a gesture or to neglect, to plant a flower or to kill a little snail - you are the one to choose. Love or Fear - you decide which one to believe in. You choose your God, because the world you live in is the world you have created: you choose the sets, the inhabitants, the colors, anything else even the gods.

To believe is a matter of choice. I made my decision, the rest is up to you!


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Saturday, March 29, 2014

Защото...вярвам



Пиша, защото искам, пиша, защото ми харесва, пиша, защото вярвам в словото, в думите, които като че ли носят в себе си частица божествено!  Вярвам, защото вярата е частта, без която не може: тя  е ключът към всяка врата. Вярвам, защото е по-добре да вярваш отколкото да не вярваш. 

 
Добро или зло, Бог или дявол, вяра или невяра...


Колко е лесно да повярваш? А нима не е и най-трудното нещо? Вярвай! А вярваш ли? Не, драги читателю, не в Библията, нито пък в Корана, не те карам да вярваш и в Рождество Христово, а просто да повярваш в нещо, каквото и да е то. Но не можеш, нали?

Аз не вярвам в Библията, не вярвам в свещеността на църквата, не вярвам в богопомазаността на свещеници и цялата клика “близки Богу”, но това не означава, че не вярвам в моя Бог. Не означава, че не мoжеш да вярваш в свой собствен, въпреки че не вярваш в това, което са искали от теб! Вярата не се иска, тя е просто поредният избор, който трябва да направим.

Светът бил прогнило място, враждебност, дискриминация, глад, войни, става все по-зле, нали така? Аз вярвам, че един ден това няма да е така, вярвам в прекрасната соул музика, вярвам в олимпийските шамшиони, които символизират упоритостта и непримиримостта на човека. Вярвам в майките, които отглеждат своите деца, вярвам в детската милувка, смях, прегръдка… вярвам в това, което искам, и не виждам онова, което за мен не съществува.

Доброто или лошото, да се обидиш или да се засмееш, да направиш жест или да пренебрегнеш, да посадиш цвете или да стъпчеш охлювче - ти избираш. Любовта или страха, ти избираш в кое да повярваш. Ти избираш своя Бог, защото светът, в който живееш, е твоя собствена проекция: ти избираш декорите, обитателите, цветовете и всичко останало, че и боговете.

Да вярваш е избор, аз съм избрал, а ти?

Други статии:

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Let Them Colors Speak



What is waiting for us outside? Inside? There? Here? Probably the rainbow will transcend over us and will wrap us with its multicolored palm to show the answer which is: the colors! They are everywhere, they are eternal and endless, they bring good, bad and what lies between them. If there are no colors, there is no life, no here, no there… only the black hole of non-existence. Let’s dive together into the deep and incredible coral reef of colors and find all the specter of precious stones!


Yellow… it is just the color of joy and happiness, the color of yellow sunflower fields. It symbolizes unfading and never-ending summer, this color carries within the impulse of unconditional happiness, childish honesty, the moment when you jump and cry out of pleasure. But yellow also carries the tenderness of daffodils. 



A scarlet Rose has proudly thrown out its chest, for there is no one who can resist its temptation. Anyone who passes, remains enchanted by its charisma and lovely scent. The Rose is red because it carries within the passion, delight, bohemian life, the smell of expensive champagne. Just like the Rose, the red color is treacherous - it has prickles disguised under the veil of sensitivity.



Blue, sigh, blue… how cool is the breeze coming from the blue sea which is so crystal, like a mirror - clear, a place where you can see your soul. Doesn’t the blue sky make the soul release a moan praising God, praising the expanse, praising the immense horizon where even the Sun goes to rest.  Blue brings blessing, freedom and feeling of divinity.



Green is the color of one of the most spectacular and beautiful creations of God. This is the color of Nature and its power, fertility, eternity. Can you imagine this saturated green color of a tropical rainforest, so green that it seems surrealistic. The green blades of grass which are full of life, full of minerals and proteins in a hectic rally to supply first this Nature’s magic. Green represents Life, Nature, wealth and feast over death.



White is the color which symbolizes purity, kindness, compassion, the human in men. Clouds, white and fluffy, as if coming out of a Grimm’s tale create a feeling of paradise on the Earth. You wish you could touch them, weave your fingers into this purity, in this soft and plush bed. Isn’t a white, gentle and shy snowdrop a messenger of good news? 



Brown is the one that carries the land, the soil… how magnificent the plowed field looks, awaiting its depths to be filled with seeds. It brings warmth, the unique and beautiful colors of cocoa, walnut and cinnamon. It leaves traces of land, soil, family coziness and warmth. It symbolizes also hardness, stability and friendliness.



Paris, May, all is green, the scent of flowers is everywhere, the early summer is here and the city is full of Love. Yes, and the most romantic part in Parsi is the sunset, a sunset washed in crimson pink caresses.  The color of the Sun that is going down, buried in a blessed softness, the color of romance, the color of nights of drinking full of pleasure and Love. 




Only yours,

D.D 

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