In a time of fragility
The porcelain town
barely survives.
Its crowds are banned.
It lacks bells and cars
and footsteps.
Even a dog's bark
is threatening.
Why carry on
this way?
Look around!
The houses are brazen
with the sheen
of comfortable things.
How many distractions there are!
Every corner presents the unexpected
as if this were a warehouse
of unicorns and centaurs.
Here are the gleaming walls
of a frozen waterfall;
the pale handles
of impossible clouds.
But since childhood we have been
careful; modest; skilful.
It's normal: our porcelain town
is one of reconciliation.
Our most serious sin
is to make a noise.
We covet nothing other than
to play the piano silently;
to dance silently, without moving.
Look at this:
how softly,
how smoothly,
how shallowly
everything reflects
itself.
Tom Phillips has been living and working in Sofia, Bulgaria, since 2017. His poetry has been published in a wide range of magazines, anthologies and pamphlets, and the full-length collections Unknown Translations (Scalino, 2016), Recreation Ground (Two River Press, 2012) and Burning Omaha (Firewater, 2003). He translates contemporary Bulgarian poetry and his own work has been translated into and published in Albanian, Bulgarian, Hindi, Italian, Macedonian, Romanian, Serbian, Slovenian and Spanish.