OH NO!

(a poem by 10 year old Emma)

 

(This is how kids feel when they are in trouble…)

Is it day,

Or is it night?

Is it dark,

Or is it light?

Is it wrong,

Or is it right?

Am I blind,

Or have I sight?

Now my face is full of tears

Locked away,

For many years,

I shout so loud, but no one hears.

THE FOREST

(a poem by 10 year old Emma)

 

Listen to the owl,

And the wolves, O, how they howl.

The hum of magic fills the air,

But everyone’s too busy to even care.

The leaves on the trees are a gentle green,

But wait, there’s more to be seen.

Fairies flying to and fro,

As tiny as my little toe.

The trees,

That sway in the misty breeze,

Wrapped in blankets of moss,

Are really easy to come across,

THE FRIENDSHIP TRAIN

(a poem by 10 year old Emma)

After the rain,

During the night,

A colourful train,

That will unite,

Everyone that is in sight.

This friendship train hoots,

And toots,

It has space for you and me,

And it expands as far as the eye can see,

You can get on it for free.

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A HEN

(a poem by 10 year old Emma)

Yes, we humans have our ways,

But what do hens do on sunny days?

They might look around for a tasty bite,

And then sleep throughout the entire night.

To tell us what they sometimes do,

Sending notes is what they do,

From him to me, from me to you,

Telling us their daily life,

The fun they have with wildlife.

HOW DO YOU SAY?

(a poem by 10 year old Emma)

How do you say

‘What a beautiful day!’,

‘Hello’ and ‘Hey’?

What do you mean

By the ‘ocean unseen’,

A ‘scrumptious sardine’?

RECIPE FOR HAPPINESS

Today I am going to prepare happiness for you. You know—the kind of happiness everybody dreams about. That unforgettable happiness. That overwhelming, deep happiness after which you are never the same. The happiness we read about in books, watch in films and hear about in other people's stories. The kind of happiness that lasts for only a few minutes. I am going to prepare for you that rare and difficult-to-achieve happiness, when we once again become one with the stars above us, just as we were in the beginning.

Have you ever been happy this way?

Today I am going to prepare happiness for you. It is a joy to blend with the vibrations of the cosmos, when everything within you trembles in harmony like the music of a magical flute. I only have to find the right ingredients for such happiness. The cosmos lives within us, but why is it so difficult to reach its vastness and power? That is what I need—power and greatness, so that I do not lose myself among the little pebbles of everyday life.

I promise to be happy for one whole day. I promise to be carefree. I will leave my sorrow behind. I will forget my pain because these ingredients can change the recipe for happiness. I want to show you that there is a part of me capable of setting aside melancholy and the constant desire to search for meaning. Because I do not have much experience of lasting happiness, I will have to dig for a long time through old, dusty cookbooks that contain recipes for every kind of human condition. I believe your recipe will be different from mine, but I suppose the difference will lie mainly in the amount of each ingredient.

And now I begin to prepare my happiness.

РЕЦЕПТА ЗА ЩАСТИЕ

Днес ще ти приготвя щастие. Нали знаеш, от онова, за което всички мечтаят. От запомнящото се щастие. От разтърсващото дълбоко щастие, след което не си същият. От онова, за което четем в книгите, гледаме във филмите и слушаме в разказите на другите хора. Онова щастие, което трае малко повече от няколко минути. От трудно постижимото щастие, когато сме отново едно цяло със звездите над нас, както е било в началото.

Бил ли си някога щастлив по този начин?

Днес ще ти приготвя щастие. Щастие е да се слееш с вибрациите на космоса, когато всичко в теб трепти хармонично като музиката на вълшебна флейта. Само трябва да намеря подходящите продукти за такова щастие. Космосът живее в нас, но защо е толкова трудно да достигнем неговата необятност и мощ? Това ми трябва – мощ и необятност, за да не се губя в ежедневните дребни камъчета.

I AM LIKE A MUSEUM

I am like a museum where everything is preserved. I am a living museum under the open sky. It is quite unique. I still pulse with burning passions that remind me of past losses and future victories. Life within me has already reached its halfway point, yet I am still far from the end. Far from the end of immortality.

I am like a museum whose basement is filled with the spirit of Adam and Eve. The spirit of sin and disobedience. The spirit of forgiveness, neither sought nor received. The Adam and Eve department is full of temptation and drama. I am an example of both God's anger and His love. I am Eve—an ancient measure of weakness and strength. I am a rebellion against prohibitions and rules.

I am like a museum with an archaeological hall dedicated to physical growth and the small victories of the body. In this part of the museum, my body exists in several sizes. The innocent size, when I still believed that words meant exactly what they said. Back then, I believed that freedom was our greatest right and responsibility, and that nothing could make us afraid because we were born fearless victors, not slaves. This is not the fault of the child's body, but of the world outside the museum, which is only a projection of our fears.

Then comes the body that has grown enough to discover love. A body that matures faster than the heart. When the body makes love, the heart may still remain cold because the heart develops at a different pace and in different dimensions. It does not need to touch the body to know that it loves. My body carries the memories of wounds that remain living reminders of betrayal and forgiveness. Every part of my body remembers. Every part of my body knows.

АЗ СЪМ КАТО МУЗЕЙ

Аз съм като музей, в който се пази всичко. Аз съм жив музей под открито небе. Единствен по рода си. В мен все още пулсират горещи страсти, напомнящи за минали загуби и бъдещи победи. В мен животът е изминал вече половината си път, но аз съм все още далеч от края. Далеч от края на неосъществимото безсмъртие.

Аз съм като музей, в чието подземие духът на Адам и Ева изпълва пространството. Духът на грях и непослушание. Духът на непоискана прошка и неполучено опрощение. В отдела на Адам и Ева е пълно със съблазън и драма. Аз съм пример за Божия гняв и любов. Аз съм Ева, древна мярка за слабост и сила. Аз съм бунт срещу забраните и правилата.

Аз съм като музей, в който има и археологическа зала на физическото израстване и малките победи над тялото. В тази част на музея се намира тялото ми в няколко размера. Размер невинен, когато все още вярвах, че думите означават това, което казват. Тогава все още вярвах, че свободата е наше изначално право и задължение и че нищо не може да ни накара да изпитваме страх, защото ние сме родени безстрашни победители, а не роби. Но за това не е виновно детското тяло, а светът извън музея, който е проекция на нашите страхове.

THE SEA

(a poem by 10 year old Emma)

The place where all known life began,

Yet we hardly know more than,

The beaches and coastline and shore,

There is so much to explore.

Millions of colours, sounds, smells,

Housing whales, fish, coral and shells,

Turquoise, emerald, sapphire dancing in the waves,

The reckless waves, they never behave.

However, they're a place to be free,

To explore as far as the eye can see,

To get lost in the perilous depths,

To reach unknown lengths.