The Mouth Breathes In

Written by: Bozhidar Pangelov

The hand that caresses the wave.
The mouth that hardly opens –
breathes in the fresh wind of the stone-pines.
To speak to the stars,
to write out signs –
that can be learnt.
It is known by the astrologers, magi,
illusionists, newspapermen. 
All this can be learnt.
To be in conformity
with the expectance. 
That is the art
of the skilful ones, the thought of the blind men. 
People who sing in the boat
that has sailed off, do they know?
Does the sand remember other steps
but those of the children?

The hand that caresses the wave.
The mouth breathes in – the fresh wind
of the stone-pines.