Two knives –
against each party
at some point I wished to reconcile.
Two knives, which I then threw out the window,
even though the slumber slowed me down.
Because there is neither need for battles
with insanity and stupidity,
nor for selecting between bad and bad.
But even when I put the weapons aside,
I continue wounding.
Author: Marin Bodakov
Translator: Katerina Stoykova