Toll! Poem by Bozhidar Pangelov

Toll!



I remain a guard of sorrow,
of angels who are thrilling there
and of the water of the fat soil.
Insane guard
of a burning temple
at the time of plague and cholera.
Feast!
Feast of the senses and of the fist
in a velvet glove.
Endless death.
And I become a bell.
Toll!

Sunday, November 30, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: sorrow
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success