Her Eyes Were Almost Black Poem by Irina Doichinova

She was a girl I met on my journey.
Her eyes were almost black
And her favourite colour
Was black too.
She offered me a bed,
With a black and red
Flag above our heads.
Somebody said one day -
'She is too arrogant for me.'
But she had won my sympathy.
Fascinated with her kind, big heart
It was hard to call her bad.

The defiant, laughing look,
The protest in her
Total lack of refinement
Made me cringe sometimes.
When she was putting her make up,
I was preparing to sleep.
She had to go out and get drunk,
As if by necessity,
As if by some self-imposed decree.

That girl, she was free,
And bound to destruction.
Arrogant perhaps,
Hiding a kind heart
Behind a revolutionary mask.
I saw the mark of self-denial -
It was on her forehead,
Glowing with a subdued radiance.

She offered me home
While something drove her
Roam the empty streets,
Looking for peace,
Looking for her lost innocence.
My sister, I call her now -
Three years later,
Her image is still vivid
In my heart.