My name is Dessy Tsvetkova, I am Bulgarian, living and working in Belgium. I love to write since childhood, in Bulgarian and in English. I am christian orthodox.
I am member of Flemish Party for Poetry.
Have published 4 books with poetry in Bulgarian, 1 book with poetry, written in English, and I have made an Anthology with translated Bulgarian prose and poetry into English, where I participate also as 1 of the authors and translators.
My inspiration comes from nature, sea, human relations. Whatever I write about, there is always an optimistic emphasis at the end of the text
He had a light shadow.
His figure was holding on
on a straight shovel.
When he was walking,
among the beds the weeds disappeared.
The wind was always his way.
Birds ate from his palms …
As soon as he smiled
they stopped to look at him …
A real miracle,
led to my door.
Some time ago
he was standing
in the beginning
on the path.
With flowers in his hands.
Waiting for almost an hour.
with slow steps
he walked down the aisle.
He gave the flowers
to the first
woman he met.
She took them up and smiled.
Today is their wedding.
The Moon of wishes
The night of Orange moon,
when stars are also orange,
and wind is quiet tune,
all dreams go out of storage.
I sit on balcony with mint tea
and I am waiting for my dream.
The moon face is looking at me
and hears my wish in the air stream.
This night is full of melodies.
The orange glow is mild.
The moon is orange melon.
I know, my wish will light!
The port of wishes
The ship loaded with old forgotten wishes
sails in the ocean of the time.
It passes through imaginary fishes,
through corals of initial prime.
The unkempt promises are in the hold,
the dreams of childhood float as clouds,
all the ideas, never realised, they float,
on the board of the ship abound.
Desires that was put in back yard,
the ship carries all this and never stops.
It may reach some landy shore in part,
if only adults start to see again their dream drops.
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I walk on the flame of love,
I wave like the feather of lark
dancing with the autumn leaves above
in starry midnight dark.
You charm me as a lighthouse,
as a cricket song before the full moon.
The moment is so promising, so long,
as culmination of the fusion, a junction and bloom.
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