Bulgarian Village Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

Come! we are on top
of just a hill
but
it
is
giddy
yet
giddy
giddy
giddy


below the clouds
where the
clouds open
the houses of the
village stretch
the streets?
four or five in all.

Small yet lovely.
Beauty here sits.
In silence.

then
in the dark
the stars glide
fixed:

yet wavering
trembling
shying.

below the clouds
where the
clouds open
the houses of the
village stretch
the streets?
four or five in all.

Dark is dispelling
LO! in a few minutes
there's change of
scene
in the fast drama.

Drama to other drama
leads.

Suddenly a white vortex
immense:
the dawn.

Yet
as soon as the face of day
the white of smile
assumes
from the edges
fast
clamber the darker grays
the frown
the scowl.

This the drear, my Monsignor.

Here
the universe nears
Emotions as I
have.

Come! come! let's go
over the hill
yon hill
that scowling cloud
of dark thickness
will soon get drizzling.
On me and
the village.

Come! Come! Let's go!