Arrival with dog in January

When we got there, I saw

that the building, designed as a hotel,

was three storeys lower than

Saint Pantaleimon monastery.

The priest’s kinswoman opened up for us.

They had slaughtered a pig,

somewhere inside they were stuffing sausages –

the woman smoked hurriedly.

Ahead of us, other tourists dragged in a puppy.

It whimpered and tripped over her feet,

and its shaking annoyed her so much!

Now her curls hung down disconsolately

like sabres bared.

Translated by Tom Phillips

The Bulgarian text first appeared in Празна зора/Empty dawn (Small Stations Press, 2019)