Anna Maria Petrova-Giuzelev is poetry writer with many publications and awards in Bulgaria and Italy.

Member of  the National Order of Journalists in Bulgaria,  Italy and CEJ.

Jury member of Italian cinema’s Academy for the awards David Donatello

Member of the Bulgarian Academy of Science and Arts, BASA

President of the Association ARTEMIDIA for Arts  and  International Friendship.

Producer  TV & Movie  from 1993 in Bulgaria & Italy.

Owner of the productions “ADRIA FILM  International” ltd.

The following poems are from her new book “But the soul knows” published in Bulgarian language by the publishing house of Union of the Bulgarian writers. Anna Maria Petrova-Giuzelev is actress, journalist and poetry writer with many publications and awards in Bulgaria and Italy.

 

As restless swallow

However, it is nice to live!

- This I say again

the day, when my soul is

singing together with

the waterspot in raptures!

When there is occasion

I myself sing,

playing crazy

and fell from fatigue

as if in a faint.

A captivating sense

of happiness

which sometimes conquered us

like fluttering restless swallow

ready at any moment to fly

and forget…

 

Circle

I knew - you would come back,

I knew – you would come back and me,

it s  could not be otherwise,

we are doomed to life,

but he meets and separates us every day.

This will always  be,

to keep the fire!

The words are scared –

the same like me.

Sharp call.

Strict and businesslike,

behind burning tension

stoped for a moment in the new

capitating resignation  -

“OK – I will wait”

Come, let's start again duel ...

 

 

MUSIC, RHYTHM, AIR

Music, rhythm, air.

I feel drunk from all this.

Be next to me!

 

Let  breathe it together.

Expect to play rock with you

when your hair sparkle,

when our eyes celebrate!

 

Come here and fill the air!

My hands are thirsty for you!

The greatest gift locked in music

with you!

We are beginning and end

of all those – music, rhythm, air!

 

Early summer

I am walking  quietly, persistently,

somewhere stumble,

somewhere slightly and unseen.

 

Drunk by freshness my thoughts flying

in the heat.

I am walking in early summer

alone and brand new,

lightheaded by inner pease.

The season is over.

Horizon rests.

Breath  -

July s flame and loneliness

bathes me…

Day by day everything goes –

people, dreams and optimism.

The end of summer beginning –

crazy, shiny, mine!

I am going thru!

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