Everything is divided up with boundary line,
which is a contact to something else.
the stem is imprisoned in bark –
Through it, feels both wind and rain.
The fish is armoured with scales –
through them it senses the sound of waves.
The sea is clamped by shores –
through them it touches the thirsty land.
I am nailed within a woman’s skin –
through it I know caress and wound.
We contact the world
only through our boundaries.
And in becoming more boundless,
we will become more lonely.
(1988)
Blaga Dimitrova
