So many wars
and all enemy sides appeal to you
to side with them,
to arm with their outrage,
to adopt their fears.
So many dirty wars
with no positive characters –
just righteous ones you can barely catch up with.
As many shameful, fake wars,
as all these masterful attempts to derail you
from your own tiny, laughable war,
from the shrapnel of the buttercup
and the munition of the crocus,
to forget that you shoot solely towards the sky –
and never against people.

To forget why you are striding stooped towards the lighthouse
since you have no ship.

Author: Marin Bodakov
Translator: Katerina Stoykova