I’m as poisonous as an apple
the snake told eve
everything in this world is halved
believe me
I’ve long been sneaking
among the fig leaves

and I always survive
I’m attracted to heat
to the smoke ring behind your ebony lashes
to adam’s neck
to the monkeys on the tree

I lie still

the falling dusk
lulls me to sleep
ever so steadily

I slip away

I can undress
as if I’m about to bathe
in something familiar
but I never remain naked

who is to tempt the snake

I sink
into the apple

–Даниела Михалева
(Daniela Mihaleva),
The Season of Delicate Hunger:
Anthology of Contemporary Bulgarian Poetry
(Accents Publishing)

The Judas tree
has lost an arm
children swing on the other one
a third crawls on the ground

tonight in place of the children
others will swing
will laugh
the laughter will cease fire will take hold of the grass
a lost sandal clasp will brand someone
and will glow against the moon
caught with two fingers

today at the onset of September
when the children climb desperately
and it smells of iodine
I learn from mothers devoted to dendrology
that on the tree, we’ve never been alone
and won’t be

-Daniela Mihaleva,
translated from the Bulgarian
by Katerina Stoykova-Klemer
The Season of Delicate Hunger
(Accents Publishing)