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Iliyana Deleva – Sad mornings…

Sad mornings, lonely evenings, breathless days and strange nights … I swallow tears, run though days and the moment I’m here – I want you more. I live stars, I dream moons. I calm...

Iliyana Deleva – I strip to the skin…

I strip to the skin – I’m not naked: vitiligo is a garment which both conceals and reveals the reason that gave it birth. Translated by Tom Phillips Original text: * Събличам...

Iliyana Deleva – The wall’s memory

‘Red’s shadow is brown’ – graffiti on the wall of the National Academy of the Arts. It’s not there now. The wall’s been repainted since then, and other graffiti has...

Iliyana Deleva – Home

after every poetry workshop slivers of poetry remain today the theme is home I leave a piece of home in the hospital ward at visiting time Translated by Tom Phillips Original...

Iliyana Deleva – Translator

Reveals the secret stones of the tongue. And of silence. Lays hold of meanings. Translates them into words. Pulls us against the current. Reaches the vortex. Catches fish and releases them. Plock! Translated...

Iliyana Deleva – Poet

I catch your eyes in the trap of my words. I carry them to a southern sky … I catch your thoughts in my silence’s mesh … I draw them down...

Iliyana Deleva

Iliyana Deleva was born in Sofia in 1966. She is a freelance writer and critic, a haiku author and a teacher. She has been...