Yordanka Getsova (Bulgaria)

 
Yordanka Getsova (Bulgaria)
 
Yordanka Getsova was born in Bulgaria. She grew up in Veliko Tyrnovo, where she studied mathematics in secondary school. In 1991 she graduated as a Landscape architect from the University of Forestry in Sofia. Since 1991 she has been working as a teacher in vocational secondary education at the School of Architecture, Construction and Geodesy in Plovdiv.
Ever since she was a child, she has had a profound interest in poetry and arts.
Yordanka Getsova is an author of one poetry book titled “Symbiosis” – 2011. By now her second book titled “Life without substitutes” is ready for print.
Yordanka’s poetry was published in periodical press, almanacs with poetry by teachers-poets and lyric almanacs. Her poems have been translated and printed in Polish in the almanacs of Grupa artystyczna KaMPe in London.
Yordanka Getsova is a prizewinner of poetry competitions.
 
Yordanka is a member of the Society of Writers in Plovdiv.
 
 
Enlightenment
 
Who lives in blindness won’t forgive
the miracles I tell.
If only did they listen to the rain,
dictating gently to the roadway
Sip of life – a dancing water spring –
coming from so far away glaciers.
The solid ground is conquered by the will
of fragile sprout of flower.
In the veins of oaks’ leaves
the sun embroiders all day summer
lace of heavenly calligraphy –
the one who sees can read
the script of their destiny
and chooses to bear a cross for life.
I stand in wicked time for magic
And keep a grain of faith
in handful soil –
so no one steels it.
 
 
Hourglass
 
Staring at the grains
so steadily falling
I think: there’s no need
to keep them in hand.
A newer kind of gravity I forge
to pledge for love.
So close I keep
your heart to mine,
while
with bare hands
for me you move the mountains.
I sew your shirt, by breath –
the summer breath,
what if the chestnuts
crash in the pavement…
How do I love? – can’t tell –
brushing off snow
sprinkled in my hair.
Don’t clear the passage to sunset –
I light up the dawn!
Sharp saved tear cuts my eyelid –
a speck of sand peeks from inside.
 
Translated into English by Savina Getsova
 
 

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