THE MEANING OF THE LYRE

The divine meaning trembles,  
Enveloping the heart of the poet.  
He would not write in vain  
Even a single random line.  

Words are a sacred work  
When the Spirit stirs within them,  
And in an instant, Light descends  
To shine with rays in our hearts.  

The verse emerges like a song,  
Sung in breath, suddenly,  
And leaning over his notebook,  
The poet flows forth like rain.  

He pours out dreams, heals wounds.  
He takes away pain and sorrow.  
Skillfully, with chosen words,  
He gives of himself in his offering.  

To penetrate deep into souls  
With comfort, with pearl-like waters.  
To well up in the eyes from tears  
And to carve long in memory.  

Such is the entire fate  
Of a spirit bound by words—  
In a scorched desert  
To give birth to blades of grass,  

To be a stream, to rise up,  
Captivating every thirst.  
This is the meaning of the lyre,  
Born to ring out the divine...  

Stefan Glavchev  
(Seeker of Pearls)