Poems by Radka Atanasova – Topalova

Επιμέλεια: Εύα Πετροπούλου Λιανού


Author of six poetry books: “Handful of Light”, “Bread and earth”, “Rainy Eyes”, “The voice of the silence”,”Who am I”, „Beyond words”. Prize-winning poems – in National Literary Contests, International Literary Contest “Lyric Voices”, Literary Contest of KTD “New Lives”-Athens, Literary Contest “Heritage of the Thracians”. Participation in poetry festivals “Spirituality without borders” and “Sofra Poetike” Boras-Sweden. and in literary readings in Edirne and Thessaloniki. Her works have been published in the ” magazine for literature and culture Prodigy magazine-Florida-USA, anthology Cosmic Poetry – Part III, anthology “World Peace” – Part V., OPA Year Book 2023.


The earth seemed to  have stopped spinning
Listening to rumbles and falling stars.
People and stars die.
And new pleiades are born.
Like the old truths.

When the clouds descend to the low,
the paths are high
to the most beautiful, whitest flower.
So it is with good news.
They find a bright way and become a ford,
in our short earthly life.


Gentle, in love and golden,
It ´s autumn on the coast.
Gathered grapes and summer
in the colors of the rainbow.
And pours strength into the sunflower.
In the soul of its ripe fruit.
On the river in the rapid – hope.
Our autumn – in love with life.


Bees are buzzing among the bushy cherries.
From blossoming linden trees they gather fragrance.
They kiss the grapes, early husked.
They accumulate the spring world in cells.
A life so quiet in the altar of the Universe.
Their little wings also
hold our lives.
As our human paths
is this a friendship- given
by God.


The quiet vibration of the hours,
when the body dreams
and awake thoughts tremble in the senses.
When truths are pettiness
they blow up loneliness. I'm thinking…
Man is born and dies alone.
After a lifetime of traveling
to each other – next to each other.
Only love remains alone.
On the stone in the tear.
And in the flight of a bird.
In the outstretched hand
at the moment of the warm pupil.
In the nuances of an unspoken verse.
In a dreamed unattainable peak.
And in the silence of the grass,
which will one day receive us
and we will blossom into a flower
for the nectar of bees.