Nikola Živanov 1934–2018

DAD, my dad, I'm waiting for May to come. And May is sad again, your lilac bloomed, your walnut leafed. Sad May, the accordion played on your birthday. Eyes, the mirror of the soul, are crying again. I don't hurt parting, that hug that was the last in May hurts. Ilija tells me don't cry mom, grandpa will come back in a car from heaven, don't worry, Nadja suffers quietly, writes you congratulations, brings gifts from the excursion. Sad May, I miss you infinitely, you miss me! All the words that I try to remember forever hurt. I am hurt by the memories, which pat me on the back and make me constantly look back. It's not the parting that hurts, it's the END that hurts. Your daughter Lydia with her family.