Dark Chords

What am I for the world so wonderful: the word mute in an unreleased verse, the tormented pause in song, fourth picture of triptych ... In the theater of life /without sufleurs/ I'm not even an inclined tree, I am not even a bush, and a sheet deflated, in the order of numbers-the smallest number, one of the ants working without memory obedient little bee in his hive, in a small hole returning to a covenant, still alive, but until when, O God ... translation from Bulgarian: the author