Maria Ilieva, Bulgaria

Not Categorized Poems

DREAMING

At the frontages of old buildings,
under clouds loaded of nostalgia
near silent cathedrals
and bent bridges...
On the streets of Florence,
in the morning, with the color of lilac
I weave my hands
in your fingers, burning of sweetness.
And I feel, how my breath
jumps up,
high, somewhere in heaven
where - in the tower of Giotto
pigeons fly
brilliant
and white
as my thoughts.
Light pours over me like a shadow
with the excited whisper
of joyful bells,
sprinkled over me
as aflower of a spray,
Blooming at sunrise.

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