BE AN ANGEL TO ME!

By Yasen Vedrin

(Fulfilled Universe)

Be an angel to me, prepared to fight

For every single ray in my soul with a sword.

Up close – to comfort me like a call of light,

From far – to pray for me with breaths toward the Lord.

Fold me in dreams beneath your wings at night.

Create me inside your eyes with dreams you bear.

Become a holiness – forever bright,

Ready to illuminate each moment there.

Be an angel to me! My human days

Divinely pierce and weave with sacred thread.

Forgive the sins that are beyond all ways,

And clear my wounds with tenderness instead.

Within your face let me the heavens find!

Within your hair – the thrill that nights impart!

If you’re beginning – let me be close behind,

And let eternity gather in our heart.

Be an angel to me – to faith and vow!

To fulfillment in prayer and desire’s trace!

Younger than sprouts! Older than worlds are now!

But pure – like candle flames in sacred space...

YOU ARE MINE, YOU ARE MINE!

By Yasen Vedrin

(Fulfilled Universe)

You are mine, you are mine! Just so pure and so mine,

Like the wind dancing wild on the bare mountain peak.

I would gather your drops from the downpour divine.

I would paint you on windows with breaths that I speak.

You are mine, you are mine! A bright bound in the vast,

A long prayed-for and starry, clear sky of the night.

Sunrise born from events in gold-silver morn cast.

Cloud of faith and a target for strong wings in flight.

You are mine, you are mine! An eternity wide,

Holding inside the meaning of few manly words.

Trembling strings of a lyre awoken with pride.

Flower, blooming in grass with the songs of the birds.

You are mine, you are mine! Just so pure and so mine!

Breeze that comes from the future. Loud roar of deep streams.

Tremor inside our speech. Tender tear of design!

End of all my long searches in calls and in dreams!

REMIND ME OF MY LOVE!

By Yasen Vedrin

(Fulfilled Universe)

Remind me of my love in deep, strong roots.

A tree for you through all the years I’ve been.

I fought the endless summers in pursuits

Just for your whisper and your laughter, queen.

Remind me of my love in river mouths.

It turned the little stream into a tide.

And in the gorges – fulfilled premonitions’ truths,

I only wished to sweep you to my side.

Remind me of my love in summer gales,

That blew the glowing embers into sparks.

For you were my bright coal that never fails,

And didn't cover up my thrills with darks.

Remind me of my love in starry flights,

In which I used to dream of you, unbound.

Cosmic and vast... Rain from the highest heights

In drops of galaxy crystal around.

Remind me of my love with chronicles pure,

In which we need each single line to stay.

And let God see His follower endure,

Who kept the sacred covenant all the way.

FULFILLED UNIVERSE

By Yasen Vedrin

(Fulfilled Universe)

When after all hardships and wandering far

I find your sweet gaze settling softly on me...

When seconds and minutes stop dead where they are,

And my touch in your body reminds of dawn's sea...

When impossibly ancient and sacred beliefs

Are fulfilled in a breath and a look, like a moan...

When stepping where Eden’s fore-hall brings reliefs,

I discover and know that your soul is a throne...

When dreaming and impulses, unvoiced and deep,

Seek their ultimate meaning in two words alone...

When we are like ropes that attraction will keep,

And the feeling above us as falls has been thrown...

When from lonely and hollow spaces of hands

Our fingers are woven by one single call...

When you are cross-blessed after prayed-for commands,

My only and sought-after love of them all...

When eternity finds a safe haven and crest

For all of its quiet and shimmering waves...

When you are a book, still unread and at rest,

Where echoes of poetry ring from its caves...

When joy, still unquenched and so wild in its race,

Turns all of my sparks into fireworks of fire –

Then let the great universe finally find place,

The one that I failed to bestow your desire...

WALK ME THROUGH, O MY LOVE!

By Yasen Vedrin

(Fulfilled Premonitions)

Walk me through, O my love! I am your longest path to pursue!

Ready even ten pairs of your shoes in a day to destroy.

There is an untouched peak in white clouds. Let it happen that you

Will discover it first, having walked all along me with joy.

Walk me through, O my love! Only travelers truly can love,

When they want to search out a bright stream or a star from the night.

They will find all their dreams, once they lose them to heavens above,

Like a faith that is wandering safe in God’s hands out of sight.

Walk me through, O my love! The endless is shrinking down fast.

And the borders are warming our eyes with kind shoulders to bear.

Weary even to death, to remember you’re living at last –

For the priceless prepared to pay prices and bills everywhere.

Walk me through, O my love! I alone bring eternity's flare!

Like bright circles, in sunrise and sunset, o’er steppes set ablaze.

And at last – having touched my near distance so close and so rare,

Turn into my own path. And I will start traveling your ways!

A NOTEBOOK FOR LOVE

By Yasen Vedrin

(Fulfilled Premonitions)

Search inside my poor memory, O love –

Old, worn pages of notebooks and space.

Find all wonderful balms from above,

And the paths to your measureless grace.

I am unable to turn back the time,

But I pray to you now... Take a look!

I’ve no call withered by anxious rime.

Your sweet days were a beautiful book!

Like a puzzle of pictures so bright

All the pieces inside me arrange.

Where you’re spring-like and blue in the light,

Leaving traces in grass without change.

Or where summer-hot touches are born,

In which palms turn to nests that are blessed.

And it’s so, oh so warm from that morn,

As if fire untamed reigns in the chest...

Do not skip any meetings or nights.

Every page that is in me just read.

And my eyes will become candlelights,

If through nights with my soul you will tread.

Do not cross out the errors of past.

Maybe through them my hair turned to white.

And forgive me, humanely and fast,

Even sins that are darkest to sight.

And when reaching the cover at last –

Shelter all of my memory near.

In my quill a bright spark is still cast

To light words and the dreams I hold dear.

Search me through! Let your spirit remain!

I have found no last word or goodbye...

You stay heavenly visible and plain,

Like a tender God's smile in the sky!

BE EVERYTHING TO ME!

By Yasen Vedrin

(Fulfilled Premonitions)

If you are pain, should I then experience you?

If you are gift, should I gift myself away?

If you are spring, should I inside calls thirst for you?

If you are fire, should I burn you with my spray...

If you are song, should I inside verse sing your tone?

If you are flight, should I fly across your space?

If you are secret, should I understand you, alone?

If you are pardon, should I pardon your embrace...

If you are cross, should I crucify and stay

My late and chained up impulse to your side?

If you are anchor, should I sink down right away

Into the depths where your pure dreams abide?

If you are miracle, should I weep you in a moan?

If you are dream, a sigh upon my chest?

If you are threshold, should I cross you all alone?

My only love! Be everything, my best!…

IS IT WORTHWHILE?

By Yasen Vedrin

(Fulfilled Premonitions)

Do not ask Love if it is worth the cost.

For human souls it has no price or chart.

It seems a breath, yet blows like tempests tossed.

It is a tear, yet waves within the heart.

It gleams with sparks – in fleeting moments caught,

But inside flames a roaring fire will expand.

Upon our faces, impressions will be wrought.

With pure delight it silvers hair and strand.

From pieces of mere clay a jar it molds

And inside marble wakes sonnets from the dead.

Our quietest of secrets it unfolds.

Within our brightest prayers it guards our bed.

It stops the minutes, weeks, and rolling years

Into a single, unchangeable, clear call.

And all its spring-like gardens past our tears

We hardly shall walk through with you at all.

Most Sacred in our hearts, resolved to stay,

It shines upon a throne of brilliant light...

Do not ask Love if it is worth the way.

For human souls it has no price or sight.

WONDROUS LOVE, SILVER-FACED

By Yasen Vedrin

(Gold Coins in the Oak Chest)

Wondrous love, silver-faced, from my soul it begins to awaken.

Turning into a stream by the cliffs, and a falls in the stones.

And the wind, by its beauty enchanted, a lyre has taken,

Softly whispering spray to the thorns and the briars in zones.

In a flash, living grass in a wonderful tremor turns green,

And it waits to be spotted by carpet-weavers on their part.

Cuckoo calls from fatigue. Sweetest nightingale sings all unseen.

While the stream – running downward – keeps pouring its luminous heart.

An old mill of our village. You come here in dressed-up attire.

And the water keeps turning the wheel near the sunrise so bright.

Knead a loaf of round bread for me, shared and faithful desire,

On a furnace of burning hot coals let it bake through the night.

Wondrous love, silver-faced, from my soul it now flows to the land.

Come along to the threshing-floor soon! Invite guests to the floor!

My own spring found your way, and it vows for your love and your hand.

Eloped with me, my darling! I want you, elope evermore...

MY DEAR CHOSEN FATE-WEAVER!

By Yasen Vedrin

(Gold Coins in the Oak Chest)

Do you heal heavy wounds, my dear chosen and beautiful fate-weaver?

Do you still keep that gift in your fingers that tremble and gleam?

Maybe you have found herbs that were wonderfully fashioned forever,

For the heroes whose hopes have run out like a fast-fading dream.

Light a wild, burning fire from leaves and dry twigs in the valley.

Pour a copper pot full from the stream that flows down by the clearing.

Rip my shirt into pieces... Right there, where my heart used to rally,

A fierce pain cuts me through, and the memory keeps reappearing.

How can one forget faces, once dreamed of in nights that were starry?

How can sadness be cured, when no potion is found for its grief?

And my tired, old eyes – by what miracle do they now vary,

Or do they just fall asleep, having seen their own end and relief?

Sprinkle powder upon my bare chest from the long-barreled rifle.

Throw a burning hot coal – let the deep, bleeding wound be now seared.

Then with handfuls of water my destiny’s dark shadows stifle –

Just a moment before by the mountain-top rays you are cleared.

DID YOU WEAVE IT, MY MOTHER?

By Yasen Vedrin

(Gold Coins in the Oak Chest)

Did you weave it, my mother, that last woolen rug on the loom,

From those rags that you cut into pieces, so many and small?

In my shattered, old memory, holy and clear through the gloom,

You alone have remained, and to God for your eternity I’d call.

Did you weave all my old recollections – to step and feel warm?

To be breathed by the magical scent of a quince on the shelf...

To tell you without voice that you are my protection from storm,

Like a living icon that the heart never hides from itself.

Did you weave all my tears that I wept since a boy in the street,

With my knees torn and bleeding, and burning from nettles like fire?

Did you weave all the sparks that remained in the bread-morsel sweet,

And the hard clods of earth by the field of our village and sire?

Did you weave all the sighs in your quiet and passionate mind?

By my white little bed from the eve till the morn you would stay...

Did you weave all the seasons that left you so silver and kind,

And that painted your face with the wrinkles of heavy decay?

You have woven it all, I well know... And the gate speaks your name.

By the locust tree, empty, that rug is now spread on the ground.

On my knees, I now kiss your bright spirit. I’ll pass just the same,

But I’ll pass to my children your shuttle from looms you have wound.

THE FINAL MEANING

By Yasen Vedrin 

(Gold Coins in the Oak Chest)

These summers of mine – like the water-buffaloes, old and resigned,
How long they have plowed through our hopes with the sharp, iron blade...
But the colorful dreams yet unlived have been left far behind,
As if I had prayed for another to find their warm shade.

The downpours of rain have rushed out. In the spring, in the autumn, and heat.
The thunders have crashed with their lightning and short-living trace.
While my soul counted all of its tears – offered at God’s own feet,
To make His pure waters burst out... Holy rivers of grace!

My hair became white, as if branded and seared by the heavy white frost,
And the dry, barren river of call cut its wrinkles in clay.
My faith became bent from the load that it carried, exhausted and lost,
But it didn't trample its duty beneath Christ’s own Cross on the way.

I didn't live to that day, which was set for a miracle find.
Perhaps I refused to give up my whole soul on the altar to rise.
And inside the future there still remain dreams that must die in the mind,
To bring Resurrection and life to my gift in the skies.

These summers of mine – like the water-buffaloes, old and resigned,
How long they have plowed... And a field is still waiting ahead!
Let me drive them once more with my eyes that are sleepless and blind,
For the ultimate meaning – that His was the life that I led.

A COVENANT LESSON

By Yasen Vedrin

(The Bird Inside You)

Now listen to words that are faithful and grand,

And let them become your past Covenant Guide.

The people who love have a heart to command,

Because they are moved by God’s Hand on their side.

In trouble – they’re merciful; in blessings – they give,

They set hearts on fire and touch human fates.

In their own secret pathways they choose how to live,

Far away from the praise that the earthly man states.

They gather up treasures in Heaven’s safe chest,

And no one feels damage from love that is pure.

With prayers and songs they fight grief for the best,

And their heavy fight is a cross to endure.

By Goodness they're drawn, and by Faith they are bound.

Along the steep pathway they leave out a trace.

Above all the slanders and hates they are found,

And they always swim where live waters find place.

They are words of the Lord, and they’re white loaves of bread.

A call from Mount Zion smells sweet from their deed.

And bright, holy borders inside souls are spread

Close to the Great King on His Throne for our need.

The people who love are the Seed that is blest,

Which brought to our God the most glorious Fruit –

To manifest Christ at the time of behest

And inside His Love and His Life to take root.

WHEN I IN PEACE WITH GOD REMAIN…

By Yasen Vedrin

(The Bird Inside You)

To lie is something I can’t do,

But follow Justice on my track –

When I in Peace with God remain,

With devils I am in attack.

There is no way on Earth for me

To keep a neutral, passive face.

The Lord accursed the snake to be,

And I don't want that dark disgrace.

As much and closely as I can

To Evil I will stand as shield.

To reconcile the God with man –

This is my bright and open field.

To be the Word for many souls

Became my destiny and sight.

And with a Sword – for sacred goals

To always enter Holy fight.

My hands are heavy with fatigue

From following Christ Jesus' way,

And Aaron and Hur within my league

I seek for brotherly love today.

But in this century they are gone.

They were renowned in ancient past.

And traders in the Temple zone

Are the last Amalek at last.

But God remains my Banner still

And always will be just as grand –

A burning flame my heart to fill,

A Lion in my spirit's land.

I stay His own, by no constraint,

But through Covenant, Choice, and Faith.

Bearing each strike without complaint –

Denied, blasphemed in every breath.

But still Zarephath's widow, kind,

Will give my spirit love untold,

For in her humble mite I find

That Christ is reigning as of old.

What of it? In the future days I smile

From peaks of Holy mountains high…

When I in Peace with God remain,

With devils I am in attack.

THE GREEN MILE (MY CREDO)

By Yasen Vedrin

(The Bird Inside You)

(In memory of Michael Clarke Duncan, who played 

John Coffey in the movie "The Green Mile")

At last this prison lock will have an end,

And far beyond my flying soul will stride.

But let the unavoidable descend

While on my own Green Mile I watch and bide.

Having overcome the darkness, chains, and bars –

To be right there where plague destroys the land,

Where God’s own love seems missing from the stars,

And Mercy has no comforting, warm hand.

Does a bright flash of lightning ever die,

That cuts across the heavens with its ray?

Is it not summer for frozen ones nearby,

And pardon for cold eyes along the way?

While angels dance their waltz up in the skies,

And in their beauty, thrills the moment’s light –

John, is it not worthwhile, before it flies,

To walk my own Green Mile into the night?

And to give everything away – to breath and song.

Left with no single thing. Barefoot and bare.

Even immortalized and ghostlike, strong,

Right at the electric chair's final flare.

At last this prison fades and slips away,

And to the everlasting flies the mind.

While down below – in wonder's overflow and play,

The life from my Green Mile is left behind...