Instead of an Introduction
My poems reflect another side of my creative nature. I have written poetry since I was a child, and, in fact, my very first set of poems came to me when I was eight years old – I still recall illustrating this anthology and undersigning my name as poet and artist as well: a true honour... The poetic spirit has remained with me always, and on some occasions, whether from the happiness of being among friends or in special moments of life, I pour my artistic inspiration into the written medium as well. My poems have an important place in my oeuvre, not least because they treat many of the same themes and ideas that appear in my paintings.
In the past I have written poetry in both English and Bulgarian, and have also translated some poems back and forth between the two languages, with greater or lesser success (some poems are simply untranslatable!). Naturally, English is not my first language, and it may not be surprising if there are more unusual turns of speech in some of my English poems, which simply came to me like that, this is how I "heard" them. But, in any case, to my own surprise, they still manage to rival the joyful and wholesome qualities that have made my poems in Bulgarian a delight to many readers.
My poetry has generally appeared in bursts of activity – most of my poems (disregarding the early poems of childhood and adolescence, interesting in their own right, but not included on this site) were written in the mid 1990's and between 2005 and 2007. In placing a selection of poems on this site (both original English-language ones and several translations from my poems in Bulgarian), I not only wish to present a complementary side of my work, but, at the same time, to give joy and wholesomeness to an English-speaking readership as well, which, I hope, will also find something to delight in!
Autumn 1
And so, it is autumn again
and again the leaves are falling.
The black profiles of the fig trees
joyfully drink dew in the morning.
All the longings and the beliefs
of the past childhoods's dreams
are covered with rustling leaves
and dissolve into silence and peace...
It is autumn again and the spider
from silver knitted a thread
in my hair and, frightened,
he left for his silvery net.
Annael (Anelia Pavlova)
Autumn 2
The illusions sway
like Japanese lanterns,
green from fear.
They slowly crumble
and slowly disappear...
The red lips of the dawn
touch festively
the beginning of a song,
so beautiful and profound –
to Heaven only it belongs.
The leaves swing
like Japanese lanterns,
yellow from sorrow.
By the warm memory of spring
they are unceasingly followed...
Annael (Anelia Pavlova)
Impression
At the end of the summer,
the trees are burning autumnally
and leaves are falling – one by one,
Like candles, extinguished somberly
from the kisses of а warm and gentle Sun...
Annael (Anelia Pavlova)
Ode to the Dew Drops
Beautiful Being of the dew drops,
you mirror yourself in the rainbow,
dancing with the wind,
who praises you.
Every blade of the grass
warmly embraces you.
Those green grass tongues –
trembling and thirsty,
drinking your colours at once.
The white clouds breathe
your freshness
like big white lungs.
Sparkling among the flowers,
leaving its lacy garment
after the night’s autumn shower –
you, innocent child of the dawn!
You are born every morning
slowly to midday ascending;
Heaven is your home – I know it
whose love letters you are
unceasingly sending.
Annael (Anelia Pavlova)
Path of Light
I shall follow the path to my Father of Light –
decisively said the grain of wheat.
Rotting in the soil is just a process –
it added with a smile –
a painful one, but very thoughtful;
deserves to be experienced and seen.
I shall follow the Wind –
quietly whispered the sprout in green –
as the Wind knows
where it comes from
and where it goes.
I shall follow the little bee –
it builds sweetness from dust.
All the colours, the flowers, and trees
are its lovers – from the past.
I shall follow the bright butterfly –
the transformed modest worm.
Like stars my thoughts shine and swing
through dark and restless nights,
and fill the space with eyes – the eyes
on the butterflys's wings...
I shall follow the Light.
Annael (Anelia Pavlova)
Seasons
A tree with leaves like crystal drops
in yellow, gold and crimson;
they ring and sing with a quite voice
the song of autumns's wisdom.
A poet walking slowly
with careful steps would pass;
and after him, like whispers – falling
the leaves transform themselves to dust...
And then again the spring is smiling
with clouds, flowers and trees;
the summer fruits are sweet and ripened,
in silence shaping their seeds.
And yesterday begets tomorrow,
but nothing is the same, alas...
The leaves are new – without sorrow
the poet comes and walks on grass.
The time is gone and disappears
in a triangle filled with light.
Through all the sounds of the Spheres
the Seasons roll and rule the life.
Annael (Anelia Pavlova)
Sleepless Night
A lonely pilgrim is the Moon
cautiously hugging the night.
Flying slowly yellow balloon,
turning its face – from side to side...
Dreams come with Her and disappear
in the melting river of darkness.
Colourless and surreal
in silver all the stars sparkle.
In sequence sleepless hours
ask their questions unanswered,
building up many towers –
all night stubbornly dancing.
Slowly the shadows in dark-blue
transform into pink, thinning.
Golden, the first ray of the light, too,
stretches with the birds' singing.
Paling and stepping away
is the Moon – a lonely knight
from an old and forgotten play,
with his armor – the sleepless night.
Annael (Anelia Pavlova)
***
Like a peacocks' colourful tails
the wings of Zephyrus are swinging.
My Soul searches the peace
of the sleeping Moon-trees.
Their leaves sing a silvery song
about the hidden, eternal Love,
which is always there, above –
soundless and unreachable...
My Soul is patiently picking
all pearls of the long, dark night;
waiting for the Sun to blossom
on the blue forehead of the sky.
Come, O, you beautiful Dawn,
come and take me!
Bless my Soul,
that it may shine,
and breathe the air of the Gods;
cover me
with your blissful rain –
my tears are the diamonds
in your mighty crown...
Let me come with You,
peaceful Maiden!
Let me forget
the dark shadows
of this night,
let me be with You forever –
that I may be alive
and always abide
within the golden chambers
of your eternal Day.
Annael (Anelia Pavlova)
***
Life is a seed
fallen on the ground,
slowly growing in the field
of a Love profound.
Life is a tree
giving home to birds.
Life is a sea
of soundless words.
Life is a number
precisely calculated,
built up and crumbled –
given and taken.
Life is a star
shining light eternal,
moving through the spiral
of an endless journey...
Annael (Anelia Pavlova)
***
O Maiden, named Autumnal Rain,
you fill the cup of our lives with stars astringent;
in your hands shines the candle of a fiery Sun,
and motley drops are falling from your glorious dress...
I will shelter my Soul beneath the wings of your palms
and in calm, quiet dreams my sadness you will lull to sleep.
From air and ether countless forms grow and tremble –
filling the spaces... fragrances fuse with their being...
Ah, unforgettable Maiden, forever you keep
the chastity dreamed of the Heavenly waters!
How gently your song now resounds – the stars are its tones,
suspended, upon the infinite summit of time –
harmonies sweetly they shed and everything sinks into them...
Annael (Anelia Pavlova)
***
White flower –
a white wish,
gloriously blossoming,
searches
for the absolute
purity.
Its stalk fills
with clear juice,
and stores it,
its blood transforms
from red to green.
Behold,
the wine is turned to water!
White bird –
a gentle thought,
never to be seen,
gently leads
the small herd.
Clothed in white
is the Divine Shepherd.
White light
shines from Him,
in His full glory
He stands.
King of the absolute purity!
My wish,
my white flower
is the lamb
in His hands,
surrendered with love
in security.
Annael (Anelia Pavlova)
***
I love this smile!
The smile of a flower –
blossoming in glory,
magically sparkling.
The little fly,
buzzes its little story,
and leaves with a cry...
I love the way your eyes look
when the sky is washed by the spring rain,
and colourful drops sing,
repeating their song – again and again...
The warm hands of the warmth
draw yellow strips –
like quinces in autumn,
like melting winter snow.
Love is a river and flows,
everything pours on
and everything tries.
I do love this smile...
Annael (Anelia Pavlova)
***
to Magdalena
A white bird is my Soul
locked in the cage of the days.
The blue sky calls her and waves;
O, how sweetly she is kissed and embraced
by its unceasing Light.
All stars softly smile
through the eyes of the night
knitting dreams out of rainbows,
weaving past into the future splendent,
and a hope of a freedom endless...
Annael (Anelia Pavlova)
***
to my father
In those distant days
of my long past childhood,
when numberless poems
were coming to me –
like little children,
and offering their
sweet, innocent words,
hanging above my head
as over ripened grapes – in clusters;
O, then the Golden Muse of Love
was my frequent and charming guest!
Then life was filled with Light
and shadows melted quickly –
unseen,
unnoticed
and dispersed...
The poems of my childhood dreams –
they still exist, imprinted
on those distant days,
which live and move – like air...
Through their strings of gold
transparent fingers play
and softly, ruby lips
are uttering a song – so gently!
Ah, Tenderness, unceasing,
You flow within my heart and bring
this Innocence again!
A throng of poems come again
in overflowing numbers!
They heal and sooth my mind, my pain,
the little child, with me uniting –
in circles, closing passing times...
Annael (Anelia Pavlova)
***
I'll wash
all of
yesterday's
hopes,
I'll throw away
the dead
reminiscences,
forgotten
in the vase
of memory.
And here I am –
new
and definitely
white,
for there to be someone to dream of me,
and someone to forget me...
Annael (Anelia Pavlova)
***
The Star of my consciousness
follows a circle
with a red cross in the middle –
the never sleeping Eye
of Eternity's riddle.
Annael (Anelia Pavlova)
The Musical Connection in My Paintings
On Fractality – cast in the form of a children’s story
Poetry in English – a short collection
Poetry in Bulgarian – a short collection
