BANISHED FROM THE PARADISE

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With its golden palm the cloud pushed me toward earth.
I fell, I fell, and at last
found myself on the green field.

Was I happy? Or unhappy?

Then the sorrel
placed a crown on me,
woven of all the unfilled hopes
of the beasts and the flowers.

© Stephan Gechev
© Don Wilson, translated
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© E-magazine LiterNet, 23.06.2001, № 6 (19)

Other publications:
Hush, you Nightingales, Canton, Connecticut, 1993.