Eva Gocheva
Eva Gocheva was born in Burgas in 1988. She graduated with a degree in Russian Philology from Sofia University “St. Kliment Ohridski,” after which she obtained a Master’s degree in “Press and Media.” She is a member of the Association of Young Bulgarian Writers.
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Gocheva is the author of two poetry collections: “A Completely Different Story” (2021), with which she won first prize in the Poetry section of the National Literary Debut Competition “Southern Spring” in 2022, and “Ever-Red” (2023). Both of her books have been nominated for the “Peroto” Literary Award in the Poetry category.
She is a recipient of national awards, a mentor in poetic writing, and an editor. Her texts have been published in anthologies, print and online publications, and translated into Spanish.
THE AUTHOR’S VOICE
Поезията е:
котка.
Какъв е животът на твоята поезия (как се ражда, как порасва, как съзрява, как умира)?
Моята поезия не се влияе от линейното време. Тя просто е тук и сега.
Изкуството свързано ли е с политиката и проблемите на нашето време? Кои проблеми те гнетят?
Изкуството е във всеки аспект на живеенето. Там, където има проблеми, има най-много изкуство. Там, където са най-сериозните проблеми, се раждат най-големите поети. Мен ме гнети това, което предизвиква физическа и емоционална болка, не самата болка.
Какво искаш да остане след думите?
Чувството.
Къде отиват ненаписаните истории?
В съзнанието на следващия, който може да ги напише добре.
*** ankles like
ankles like mountains
she stands behind the window and observes:
the bombs
the weapons
the gaping buildings and bodies of man and beast
plates and cups crackle with the rumble
nothing simmers on the stove
she is all by herself and shrunken even more
this woman is not my grandmother
though this is how I imagine her
as I write this
but this is war is – the ones at its midst
grow to look like your closest
this is how the world becomes one
shortly before falling apart
Translated by Elitsa Chotrova
*** A woman on the street
A woman on the street talking on the phone:
It comes from somewhere above
Mark my word
I imagine how God has intervened
in someone’s life
After a while, the woman adds:
talk to the neighbors
They’ve flooded you, I tell you
I smile
If God is still in my thoughts
Then I will still be in God’s
Translated by Elitsa Chotrova
*** keep licking our eyes
keep licking our eyes
the wave of your tail
is the fan of the world
you mongrel of the heart you
once petted
you always return
pain
Translated by Elitsa Chotrova
*** let's stay
let’s stay
in the sunny split late in the day
when we still lie beside
and your shoulders and spine
are the cross of all religious beliefs
then I will truly see:
I met you in order to believe
in the strength of your bones
in the greenish paths of your veins
I met you because
the best that I can
is to believe in them
let’s stay
let us wait for the world to turn green
like fish in a river under the sun’s heat
let’s stay
life is a nice place to be
yet not quite enough for me
I need to believe in something
Translated by Elitsa Chotrova
*** I've been watching for hours
I’ve been watching for hours
the peeling top floors
of the building across the street
like spotted dead horses
with manes of antennas and cables
the windows of old
are their empty eyeballs–
caves of staircases and ceilings
perhaps there used to be people and things
the horses were alive
and suicides threw themselves down
but now not even that happens
this building is dead to death itself
the whole neighborhood is dead
and the city is no shelter
trolleybuses
subways
skyscrapers at the edge of Sofia
everything scrapes
scraping
scraping
wearing out or falling apart
under this dripping sky –
a lid overhead –
so we can rot and smell less bad
still, the cosmos doesn’t deserve that
this is all true in those days
when you are not around
Translated by Elitsa Chotrova
*** you come home from work
you come home from work
to find him asleep on the couch once again
hugging an empty bottle of vodka
the air in his nose whining
like a stray dog
all the corners of all the rooms
stick out
but not these
not here
leave
Translated by Elitsa Chotrova
*** When leaving someone
When leaving someone, we say,
you don’t know
you cannot
you don’t want
you don’t do
you don’t remember
instead of leaving
like the wind leaves the mill
and it’s quite enough
to leave the other the thing
which will provide them with food
Translated by Elitsa Chotrova
*** The worst advice
The worst advice
I’ve ever received
after leaving you:
Dear passengers
after leaving the train
don’t forget your luggage
Translated by Elitsa Chotrova
What is poetry?
cat.
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Gocheva