Morocco and Black Olives
And swallow are of love
the silky horizons
hit by a wing
of pink flamingo.
And the weeds are with deep
roots,
drawn water
of secret wells.
Careless was the wind,
carried off in hollows
tenderly
all kind of visions of
color.
Now the time is of the sand,
crossed the life-giving river.
And blows only wind from
Sahara.
*Translator bulgarian-english: Vessislava Savova
rarebird
Copyright © Bozhidar Pangelov | Year Posted 2010
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