Hristo Daskalov's poetry

I Always Try

I always try to realize
The meaning in the things.
And what am I and what's the price
Of pulling my own strings.

For pulling these mysterious strings
Is not an easy matter.
And one must pass through many pits
Before the evil scatters.

But what a bliss one may feel
In listening to this music,
Which everything's amusing.

When first I heard this amazing sound
Once in summer evening.
I looked around - what I saw?
The Gods were there singing.

Sofia, 2004