***(To My Children) - Poem by Bozhidar Pangelov
At some unnamed night,
and it will be bright,
I'll go away.
The door I will never
the flowers will keep
My children will have fallen asleep
the most deeply
covered and caressed
and somebody will cant to them again
a cradle song.
It will be light like in a temple
and clear like a voice
Then I'll leave
forgotten all the words…
A branch in the white snow.
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