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Light of the Day

Tzveta Sofronieva

Longing for the accuracy of signs

Longing for the accuracy of signs

I long for Noh-theater
It offers me a rescue
Dark tones, deep sounds
Attempt to understand dying

Feel what Orpheus composed
Dark tones, deep sounds
At the grave of my father
At burial places of friends

Attention and speed
In the eyes of redbreasts
Atavistic splendor of costumes
On a high-tech stage

I long for a depth
That enthralls without drowning
For the accuracy of the characters
For their place in the sentences

I do not claim the world
I'm just an open flower
Who reflects and pours light
Without hesitating

Sehnsucht nach der Genauigkeit der Zeichen

Ich sehne mich nach Nō-Theater
Das bietet mir eine Rettung
Dunkle Laute Tiefe Laute
Das Sterben zu begreifen

Spüren was Orpheus komponierte
Dunkle Laute Tiefe Laute
Am Grab meines Vaters
An den Grabstätten von Freunden

Aufmerksamkeit und Geschwindigkeit
In den Augen der Rotkelchen
Atavistische Pracht der Kostüme
Auf der hochtechnologischen Bühne

Ich sehne mich nach einer Tiefe
Die mitreißt ohne zu töten
Nach der Genauigkeit der Zeichen
Nach dem Z in den Worten

Ich beanspruche nicht die Welt
Ich bin nur eine Blume
Reflektiere alle Lichtstrahlen
Ohne zu verzagen

Копнеж по точността на знаците

Копнея по Но-театър
Носи ми спасение
Тъмни дълбоки звуци
Смъртта да проумея

Усещам какво е композирал Орфей
Тъмни дълбоки звуци
На гроба на баща ми
На гробовете на поети

Съсредоточеност и ускорение
В очите на червеношийките
Атавистична щедрост в костюмите
Върху високотехнологичната сцена

Жадувам дълбина
Която увлича без да убива
Точността на знаците
Белотата и Ц-то в думите

Нямам претенции към света
Аз съм само едно цвете
Не се отказвам да рефлектирам
светлинните лъчи

English, German and Bulgarian by Tzveta Sofronieva
French translation by Jean Portante

La précision des signes me manque

Le théâtre Nô me manque
C’est ma salvation
Sombres sons sons profonds
Comprendre ce qu’est mourir

Sentir ce qu’a composé Orphée
Sombres sons sons profonds
Devant la tombe de mon père
Devant les sépultures d’amis

Attention et vitesse
Dans les yeux des rouges-gorges
Splendeur atavique des costumes
Sur la scène high-tech

Une profondeur me manque
Qui emporte sans tuer
Me manque la précision des signes
Le S dans les mots

Je ne demande pas le monde
Je ne suis qu’une fleur
Je reflète tous les rayons lumineux
Sans me laisser soumettre
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