It's morning, it's morning
in sweet and simple Bulgaria
.The good old sun
shines like a grandma's cheering voice
and the household stirs,
doors open, the gates throw away
the shackles of caution.
the house awakes
to the sound of doors slammed shut and opened again
to let in the morning's gusty winds.
The air carries the smell of blankets washed
hung out on balconies to soak in the sun.
A rustic charm runs through the breeze
and it's a woman's voice which rings and commands,
and the entire household bows to her wish.
Written especially for my dear friend Tanya who is from Bulgaria
in sweet and simple Bulgaria
.The good old sun
shines like a grandma's cheering voice
and the household stirs,
doors open, the gates throw away
the shackles of caution.
the house awakes
to the sound of doors slammed shut and opened again
to let in the morning's gusty winds.
The air carries the smell of blankets washed
hung out on balconies to soak in the sun.
A rustic charm runs through the breeze
and it's a woman's voice which rings and commands,
and the entire household bows to her wish.
Written especially for my dear friend Tanya who is from Bulgaria
no comments
12 plus ones
No comments:
Post a Comment