It’s easy to speak with another’s words,
it’s easy to war with another’s power,
it’s easy to spend another’s money.
All of me is see-through,
and the thoughts I share today
have likely been voiced by another.
I’d like to say a single word
which reflects the world
the way a drop reflects the color palette.
I do nothing more than the ant,
walk and carry the seed,
when I see a spring—
drink from its water
when I discover a path—
put up a sign
that the world is passable.
Sometimes it’s so dangerous to get lost.
Even the child knows where she’s going
when running toward the waves
with a bucket in hand,
she carries the sand of time gone by
to build a dream.
–Sasho Serafimov,
translated from the Bulgarian
by Katerina Stoykova-Klemer
The Season of Delicate Hunger