It’s Love That Has Been Thrown Away

Dear Reader,

as you have probably guessed correctly from the title, I have another poem up my sleeve. 🙂

The author again is Evtim Evtimov – the verses of this man certainly do strike a chord with me.

On a separate note – do you love receiving/sending flowers?

I have not often been given flowers but every time that I have, I have been extremely sorry to throw them away. I have felt that putting them in the garbage was in some way disrespectful to the person who has given them to me, like I was throwing away his affection, or congratulations or wishes.

Portrait of a Woman, 1936, Bencho Obreshkov (1899-1970), oil on canvass
Portrait of a Woman, 1936, Bencho Obreshkov (1899-1970), oil on canvass. Look at the fixed and empty gaze of this lady! Doesn’t she look like a person, who has just rejected or thrown away flowers, because she considered this the right thing to do, but kept just this one blossom to contemplate while thinking of what might have been? I am afraid I let my imagination run away with me…:)

So, I have thought, maybe it’s better not to receive flowers at all, so as to be spared this awkwardness at the end. As poet Penyo Penev once wrote: “Let there never be anything, so there is nothing to lose” (нека никога нищо да няма, за да няма какво да се губи.)

As a way to building up soul callouses that would allow me to throw away flowers without batting an eye, I strive to always have fresh flowers at home – something durable like chrysanthemums, carnations or miniature roses. In an effort to encourage me, Santa Claus was kind enough to give me a lovely crystal vase for Christmas. 🙂

These have not been thrown away. Yet.
These have not been thrown away. Yet.

The poem I am about to present to you is about  flowers thrown away being equivalent to love rejected. It is a small poem, in Evtimov’s slightly abrupt style that I find so appealing.

As usual, my humble effort at translation goes first:

This morning on the sidewalk pavement
Flowers were lying scattered,
Like open wounds, like feelings shattered,
Like a cruel, final statement.

I stopped to put them on the sill

Of the window closed above them. Still,
Sad and grim I went my way.

They looked so wretched at the break of day,
That I winced – this morning
It’s Love that has been thrown away.

And now the original:

Тази заран
под един прозорец
аз видях изхвърлени цветя,
като чувства нежелани,
като пресни, живи рани.
Бях готов да ги завърна горе,
на прозореца затворен,
но отминах тъжен и суров.
Тази заран
някой бе изхвърлил
през прозореца
една любов.

A nice one, isn’t it? 

As closure, I would like to treat you to an instrumental performance of a great Bulgarian love song by the very unromantic name of Adaptation, or Адаптация. The music is performed by the symphonic orchestra of the Bulgarian National Radio, at a show on the national television.

The song was written in 1979 as a soundtrack to a cinema movie of the same name, telling the story of four schizophrenics, who, each in their own way, face their fear of love.

In the lyrics, the protagonist asks another person not to leave him and describes, in a very metaphoric way, how his life would become devoid of beauty and meaning if they did. 

This orchestra arrangement somehow erases time from this song, making it ethereal and eternal, like the emotions it so movingly describes. 

Oh, and do pay attention to the cello and double-bass sections – it is they that add depth to that melody!

Cellos are pure class and elegy, I adore them. They are the instrument that the most closely resembles the human voice, did you know that?!

A cello starts weeping,
when a flower has withered
somewhere.