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Irina Yordanova (1961-)

Studied journalism at St. Kliment Okhridski University in Sofia. Works as reporter for 'Democracy.' Member of the Society of Free Journalists in Bulgaria.

Irina Yordanova
The Dreamer

'Behold, this dreamer cometh.
Come now therefore, and let us slay him . . .'
(Genesis, 37, 19-20)

That's what your brothers think.

With eyes and hearts bloodshot,

Forbearing the secret slaughter.

They are shepherds schooled in tough killing.

And know the harsh rasp of a slit throat.

 

What filled their hearts with hate

And ade their brains stop breathing.

And Cain's tumours spread

To suffocate the nobler brother?

These were the flocks of your dreams.

Each night you drank the milk

Of white prophesy. By morn

You had swallowed the air and the emptiness.

You fool. Were you not content to hold

Darkness by the hand,

To find sense in the chaos of form,

In the antics of longlegged shadows.

Why did you put the dreams of others into words,

And give them to pharaohs and bakers?

In days to come unworthy fools will falter

These truths of yours from the pulpit.

Because everyone is eager to interpret Time

According to the dream-book of one's own life,

So symbols, eternal totems and taboos

Shatter clattering before us.

We are made of night predictions,

Which we hide and barely understand.

But here comes the dreamer, the fortune-teller,

Well-what shell we do? Embrace or kill him?


translated from Bulgarian

Belin Tonchev


Last modified: November 21, 1997

p-miltenoff@nwu.edu