Tag Archives: the season of delicate hunger

“A Dream About the Wall and the Key” by Nikolay Boykov

The Season of Delicate Hunger

.            For Alex Miller

I slept nestled against a wall of doors
endless as an infinite wall
I woke up
in my mouth was a key
I unlocked the nearest door
there in a windowless room
nestled against the wall opposite the door
a man was sitting and sleeping
in his mouth was a key
I woke him up
and we set out to wake up
the other sleepers
behind the other doors of the white rooms
then I woke up

Nikolay Boykov,
translated from the Bulgarian
by Katerina Stoykova-Klemer
The Season of Delicate Hunger:
Anthology of Contemporary Bulgarian Poetry

(Accents Publishing)

“Ljubljana” by Georgi Gospodinov

The Season of Delicate Hunger

One evening
in my hotel room
on the government radio news,
to hear the newscaster
exhaust the entire dark chronicle
with the one and only announcement:
black kitty lost
downtown… .
(That is all from us, goodnight!)

That’s how I lost sleep
in the calmest of capitals.

Georgi Gospodinov,
translated from the Bulgarian
by Katerina Stoykova-Klemer
The Season of Delicate Hunger:
Anthology of Contemporary Bulgarian Poetry
(Accents Publishing)

“In the Name of the Approaching Time” by Bina Kals

The Season of Delicate Hunger

I heralded the water in the streams of summer
Twined a wreath from fragrant grasses
Contemplated clouds and islands

Marked the bird’s wings with poetry
And the broadened space

And pteros became eros
In the name of the approaching time

From a drop of rain from rain to drop
I open the fated letter
So all crickets see me
And remember me with sunshine on my lips

I remain tête-à-tête with love
I choose three things
That I want to happen always

How many songs live within me.

Bina Kals,
translated from the Bulgarian by Katerina Stoykova-Klemer
The Season of Delicate Hunger:
Anthology of Contemporary Bulgarian Poetry
(Accents Publishing)

“You are Beautiful” by Emanuil A. Vidinski

Emanuil A. Vidinski’s “You are Beautiful” read by Katerina Stoykova-Klemer—who also translated it from the original Bulgarian—at the Morris book shop.

You can find more contemporary Bulgarian poetry in our anthology, The Season of Delicate Hunger.

Emanuil VidinskiEmanuil Vidinski was born on June 27th, 1978 in Vidin. He holds a degree in Slavic and Germanic studies from St. Kliment Ohridski University in Sofia. He is the author of a short story collection, a novel and a poetry collection, Par Avion (2011). Emanuil is the creator and editor of the World Novels series for Altera Press. He was an editor in the Bulgarian department of Deutsche Welle radio in Germany from 2008 to 2012. He currently lives and works in Sofia.

“Innocent” by Aksinia Mihaylova

The Season of Delicate Hunger Anthology of Contemporary Bulgarian Poetry

The first time I descended,
it was before the slow march of the fireflies
above the unreaped barley fields,
before the silent fingertips along the spine
before I taught myself to bind
sleep’s broken wing.
I sought another body
to feed life together,
but no one called my name.

The second time I descended,
I could already sound out the alphabet of small joys,
although the pomegranates on the tree of knowledge
were still unripe and so, to feed eternity,
we entered the slow river as lovers,
and exited as brother and sister:

between you and me—the light.

Aksinia Mihaylova
translated from the Bulgarian
by Katerina Stoykova-Klemer
The Season of Delicate Hunger:
Anthology of Contemporary Bulgarian Poetry
(Accents Publishing)

“Homecoming” by Krasimir Vardyev


Krasimir Vardyev’s “Homecoming” was read at the Morris book shop as part of the release celebration for The Season of Delicate Hunger: Anthology of Contemporary Bulgarian Poetry. The English version of the poem was translated by Katerina Stoykova-Klemer.

The poem was read by Nadezhda Nikolova, an artist from the former Yugoslavia and Bulgaria who specializes in wet plate collodion photography. She currently resides in Lexington, Kentucky. You can find her website by clicking here.

Krasimir VardyevKrasimir Vardyev was born on May 17th, 1978 in Beloslav. He holds a degree from Kontantin Preslavsky University of Shumen. He has received awards for his poetry and prose, among which is the Southern Spring Award for his debut poetry collection, Curb, in 2001. From 1998 to 2003, he was a co-organizer and participant in the “Street Poetry” campaign. His second poetry book, Symbiosis, was published in 2007. Krasimir lives and works in Sofia.

“The Love Emails Fly, Then Stop” by Mirela Ivanova

The Season of Delicate Hunger.                               I kiss each word,
.                              individually the wings of the words,
.                               individually the souls of the words,
.                               the commas, the periods, the thrill
.                               and the passion, and finally
.                               your name.
Then with the Delete key I obliterate
each word, the wings of the words
and the souls of the words, the commas,
the periods, the thrill and the passion,
and finally your name.
I obliterate that vertigo,
the swaying from no to yes,
the loss of balance
and the collapse of one into the other.
I obliterate the towns and the trains,
and the embraces in that summer,
I obliterate the daze, the rains and the rooms,
and you, enlightened and confused, nude and white
amidst the rooms, with the three marriages
and the two Germanys, I obliterate you.
My omniscient, crumbly parchment,
as priceless as if pre-Christ, undeciphered,
I obliterate you with the cold sores
from that feverish fall,
with the air sweaty with flu, palpitations,
moans, melding, sleep and more, and again.
I obliterate you with the aspirins, the drops,
the chamomile tea, the eucalyptus balm,
which I rub slow and long
into your slow and long body.
I obliterate you with your naïve oddities,
with the vanity, with your pouting lips,
with the all-embracing arms
and the incinerating fingers.
I obliterate you while you are dreaming of soup,
engrossed in a book, enlightened and confused
.                               omniscient, beautiful
.                               and loved, I obliterate you,
.                               and thus I obliterate myself also,
.                               I obliterate love,
.                               because we do not deserve it.

Mirela Ivanova,
translated from the Bulgarian
by Katerina Stoykova-Klemer,
The Season of Delicate Hunger:
Anthology of Contemporary Bulgarian Poetry
(Accents Publishing)

“Pontifex” by Valentin Dishev

The Season of Delicate Hunger

There are caresses
you cannot possess.
The grass below.
There is meaning
you cannot embrace.
The grass above.

-Valentin Dishev,
translated from the Bulgarian
by Katerina Stoykova-Klemer,
The Season of Delicate Hunger:
Anthology of Contemporary Bulgarian Poetry
(Accents Publishing)

“Seagull” by Vladimir Levchev

The Season of Delicate Hunger

At dusk on the beach—
elders in white with long shadows—
the seagulls stride
and chat.

We don’t know their language.
But we listen.

The sea arrives as in a dream
and announces something dramatic.

We don’t know the languages
of the wind, of the sunset, of the stars.
But we listen.

As children
we played broken telephone.
Someone whispers words in your ear,
you try to decipher them
then whisper the message to someone else.

We don’t know the first word.
But we listen.

That’s how we create
parallel worlds.

Vladimir Levchev
translated from the Bulgarian
by Katerina Stoykova-Klemer
The Season of Delicate Hunger:
Anthology of Contemporary Bulgarian Poetry
(Accents Publishing)

“Coal” by Ani Ilkov

The Season of Delicate Hunger

You think: there underground
There we’ll manage to be kind
We’ll find work in companies
We’ll amass mounds of cash
(until the wife and kids arrive)

And you think: it’s so simple
Black sun shines above
And colorful ores below
Open their eyes with natural boldness
Like a man who’s overcome sickness

Actually it’s like this: you descend
All your life you’ve craved women
Dressed in clothes of alcohol and
Suddenly you see—time sleeps
Over heaps of listless manure.

Then you’ll tell yourself: life was only smoke.
Today let’s merge with the eternal:
To dream rose-colored dreams
While turning into coal.

-Ani Ilkov, 
translated from the Bulgarian
by Katerina Stoykova-Klemer
The Season of Delicate Hunger:
Anthology of Contemporary Bulgarian Poetry
(Accents Publishing)