We are publishing this poem, posted by a reader signed “The teacher who promised you a foreign poem”.
A shocking poem.
If anyone knows who the author is, let them write in the comments.
Garbage containers next to the unit.
A woman came here every morning,
in old clothes, thin, short,
with a cart, and in winter with a sledge.
Looked through the mixture well things,
separated the useful ones by type.
It seemed strange to me that she was familiar,
in gait, manner, back – arched.
I was always busy, chief – in the municipality,
they drove me to the office.
And only in the morning, right by the door
I could see her – she was wearing glasses.
But once she spoke to me.
He asked me with a smile about the time.
She seemed incredibly close to me.
And I recognized her – I recognized her by her voice.
She was my favorite teacher
in the last year of high school.
He replaced almost a year.
I was in love with her. I listened to her enthusiastically.
All day at work I thought about her –
THE TEACHER turned bum.
I was looking for something in the desk, I was cleaning something-
I had become the student – Bozhidar.
She didn’t recognize the student in me.
I myself was quite changed –
solid, heavy, likeness
with mastitis, an authoritative businessman.
At dawn, I was waiting for her very early.
A beautiful morning. A non-working day.
In my trash at the bottom tucked away
there is a box, a great gift from me.
I felt it coming behind me.
I emptied the trash can early.
And without even raising my head,
I quickly ran home to our house.
I had put 300 euros in the box,
coffee, perfume, box of chocolates.
I was excited and a little nervous,
but inside I felt very young.
I had breakfast and lay down on the couch.
The doorbell rang.
I went out to open it – no one is there.
In front of the door – an envelope, the box – to the side.
“Didn’t I teach you, dear Bozhidare,
that every work beautifies a Man.
Even poverty is a gift from God,
even in the twenty-first century.
Am I a beggar in your eyes?
You are ashamed to talk to me.
I return your alms
and know – I will go to bed hungry that day.
I do not ask for mercy, I do not hide poverty.
I’m a bum, I can’t help it, I’m not committing a sin.”
I read this, I was going to kill myself.
I didn’t see the teacher anymore.
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