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Nina Mindova Poem
2011, Yambol
A poem for My Beloved
1.He is like a bunch of myrrh,
He is gilding my fingers
With fragrance.
He is weaving into between
My breasts, He is cloaking on
My pearl buttons in sunrise redden
Like a droplets of blood,
A necklace of my heart,
A star of cinnamon tree,
A porcelain cup with milk
On a small table,
Till a silver spoon which
He is taking up slowly along
His stifling lips, and like a butterfly
Is swallowing a little chalice of my heart.
My beloved is walking and decreasing.
2. He wakes the forests green like emerald
Hayricks, white droplets, running on the
Face of the sky.
Eyebrows of clouds ,each snowdrop
bowing down
Under His white fingers.
All blade of grass reducing.
The pomegranates are like big chalices
For Holy communion.
My Beloved lifted it.
His back have been cut of
Smart whips, blood veronicas
Shoots up His white skin,
Strained like a drum, for fierce mad
Throng.
My Beloved will never be separated
From my breasts.
Myrrh deeply in my bosom and I
Live from her Holiness,
Golden lichen in golden hoops,
Tightens up my heart.
Beloved how giving out a sweet perfume,
Smells a summer.
Nina Mindova was born in Yambol, Bulgaria.
She graduated at Bulgarian philology, English philology in Paisii Hilendarski university in Plovdiv and Theology in VEBI Sofia..
She is author of six poetry books.
Copyright © Nina Mindova | Year Posted 2012
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Details |
Nina Mindova Poem
Wave a sea softened
and a pain and a tenderness
throw dreams in fascination
of the blue.
And let shave the waves of
Your eternity , oh, weigh
above me,
oh,weigh a coast of years.
Carry far in azure, spiral
ships,
with bulging little abdomens,
flutter with mahagony pinions
and already in vain expect you
to stop the scales harbours
with hot flames for You are
open.
Far away, far away ,far away,
stretched string,
heart and frank await the
hymn of June.
All sea sisters are dressed in
mother-of-pearl garment
embroidered of kiss of
eternity.
In the morning hunts them
fishermen and revive with
breath of their man’s hands.
In the evening girls wash
their black tunics,
in their blue hearts,
their feet white ,who cadge
heavy chains.
The night is squeezed enigma
and ugly,
predatory like a bat pecking
of scarlet fig.
Sea sisters, sea sisters,
remember His steps
which go through you noiselessly,
and ou swing like
bloody wine-
hold in His fingers Herod,
Pilate washes his hands,
in Yours heirs
and they bristled like winter
icicles bristles of innoncent blood .
There at Golgotha
hearing terrible cry,
blood gushes like
wounded river disappear
like Easter roses,
in weeds of flushed
preditory crowd,
to open way of
saving.
Who is He?
Do you heard
His name ?
He is Messiah,
God’s anoited
Jesus Christ.
Like little sheeps,
clouds of candy floss,
they welcome festivaly.
Barefooted are feet
of lovely swarthy steps
of the sun, came to bow,
before You , Creator.
The sea throws his
magnificent silver flesh,
blue like heavently lace,
to swallow all stars
only Bethlehem’s
stays inextinguishable,
pretty like uncreated
like an apple of not
born girl.
Copyright © Nina Mindova | Year Posted 2012
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