Peter Kraevski (Bulgaria)

Peter Kraevski
Peter Kraevski is the author of eight books – satirical poems, poetry and prose. His book “Hi, How Are You?” (satirical poems) was officially proclaimed to be the best-selling book for November 2001 in “Otetz Paisii” bookstores. His collection of poetry “Somnambul” won the “Svetlostrui” National award as the best poetry book for the period 2006-2008. Peter Kraevski is the author of the novel “4at, or Farewell to Arcadia” which was published in 2009, “Operation Laughing Gas” (humorous stories) published in 2012, “Burned Letters” (poetry) published in 2016 and “Humus” (poetry) published in 2017. He has been given lots of prizes in national literary contests of satire, poetry, prose and mass media.
Your heart is like a forest
with shadows shaped like women
and fireflies that hover
along the grassy path.
Then suddenly
an owl hoots out.
A white crow flies away.
And it is winter.
Oh, fruit of light!
Swell with love!
Ripen with sadness!
Sweeten juices – dreams!
And let your fragrant thoughts
be honeyed dew
upon your tender skin!
Your taste I do adore.
… This whisper was
the mighty voice of light.
I soaked its masterful behest
with words that creep like ivy –
in the shadow
of the vines
afore the coming day of vintage.
She is a strange,
auspicious entity
and she doesn’t know,
and she’ll never even sus
that her eyes are
like the morn
in which
I will never wake.
A cloudy woman –
in my sky
you shed no tears of love.
You passed by.
And then
the rain began to fall
in me.
She is an unfinished poem:
the aroma which precedes her,
the sunny wind in the blackness of her eyes,
the placid oxygen of her smile,
that soft peach nap in her voice
tickling your manly ego,
and the mysterious syrup of her dimples
that you would’ve drunk completely…
Is it worth
contemplating her in words?
A futile consolation poetry is.
Youth –
a wondrous territory,
аlogical and cruel dictatorship.
Its limits – the horizon
and utopias – its reality.
In the morning you get going
and at noon
undetectably you are
beyond return.
I am
the fig tree.
I weigh down
after each betrayal –
I birth the fruits of faith
and hang them on the branches.
How many ripening executions!
How many sweet curses!
Will I sate with them your mercy,
my friends?

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