Penyo Penev

Sleep doesn’t close my lashes

Sleep doesn’t close my lashes

split between longing and worry;

on the table – just see –dying flashes

of candle wax melting away

I expect no marvel, but wait,

depressed, …and melancholy lonely,

for pale paths to lead you straight

through the dark tonight to me.


It’s quiet, it’s quiet, it’s quiet

And silent I stand in a dream

There’s no you, ever, anywhere…

lonely, silent star gleam


It’s hard, separation is hard

In that faraway waterless wood,

Love, thirst, and sorrow scarred

I am firewood, firewood, firewood


If outside

If outside

the dawn is

unfurled – it’s now


unfurled for you.

If in this world

there exists

a force – it’s called




and grief


When the Violets flower

When the violets flower
And nothing is going your way
Fuck everyone else’s mother
And make sure you are OK

Fuck everyone else’s mother
And stop yourself feeling blue
And if you are still feeling bothered
Go fuck your own mother too.

Penyo Penev

Introduction to Kuncho Kuntripov

Let’s start with morality muckers!
Morality – morals: the sum!
Everyone’s the fruit of a fucking:
Their dad’s had a fuck with their mum.

He ploughed her shaded burrow
For hours by day and night,
Just like everyone before him
For millennia long out of sight.

Now I’m a big fan of strict morals
And honour the moralist’s scourge;
He always starts with ideals
The principal theme of his dirge.

But let’s clear the air entirely
And ignore dry ethical calls;
Let’s agree that our strict moralist
Of course is equipped with two balls.

Recollecting his misspent youth
A gallon of tears he pours,
But how can he alter the course
Of  Nature’s immutable laws?

He’ll cry sex is so beneath us
It should rightly be buried in muck
But everyone wants his portion
Even him – he just wants a fuck!

And yet I know he’ll be swearing
While under the sky we duck
For as long as the world rolls on
Man will fuck and fuck and fuck.

From the dawn of time to our age
They fuck – both wealthy and poor!
Man and beast – they both go a-fucking
But Man fucks a whole lot more.

He fucks whoever he comes by
The beautiful, ugly and plain
He fucks from night till lunch time
Till his prick comes to droop in vain

He drives on, never stopping
As long as his prick’s like a prong
From in front and behind he rogers
So he feels happy and young.

So why does our moralist lie
About how he came into the light?
First let him answer the question
Didn’t he have a screw last night?

And let him attest quite freely
To the powerful pull of his todger
And to how many million people
Get down every night and roger.


Chapter 1

And so let’s get on with our story
The hero is already before us
I’ll present him to you quite simply
Without ceremony, intros or fuss.

Penyo Penev

translation by Christopher Buxton
For translation of the rest of this contact translator directly