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For wine

For wine

Dimitar Vasin

For wine, which further matures,
for words not spoken yet
piano will find its place
Hoops and will firmly tightened.

Fermentation will come someday
with the thought of taming.
Or insanity.

Differentiate them from similar
I will go crazy warm blood.
My blood will flow
the color of my belated truth.
And I will swing to catch up
circle and the path of irreversible,
of recurrence and matured there
of words.

For sober will be sober,
for a drunk to get drunk to death.

Even death will mellow and quiet.
And to die you will go mad time
and seed spilled into the sky,
spilled in my heart – you will go mad.
And you will meet the down to hug
of hoops torn, tied
and still torn.

At the time of the wine of the words
and love – blasphemy is prohibited.