This is the 16th in a series of posts previewing the new issue of Absinthe, our 17th, focused on Bulgaria. In this post we present a poem by Nikolay Boykov.
Dream of the Wall and Key
I slept huddled next to a wall of doors
endless like a wall without end
I woke up
in my mouth was a key
I unlocked the first closest door
There in a windowless room
huddled next to the wall opposite the door
a man sat and slept
in his mouth a key
I woke him up
and we went to wake up
the others asleep
behind other doors of white rooms
Until I woke up
Translated by Jonathan Dunne
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| (c) Neva Micheva |
