Stanislava Stanoeva


Stanislava Stanoeva was born in Plovdiv, Bulgaria. She graduated from the University of Plovdiv “Paisij Hilendarski," with a degree in Bulgarian philology.

She is author of the poetry book “The Death of the Hangman” (1999). In 2000 this book brought her the National prize for a first poetry book in the Annual competition, organized by the University of Shumen.

In 2003 her second poetry book “A Flight in the Stone” was published. Her poetry is also published in such periodicals as “Rodna rech” (Native Speech), “Stranica” (Page), in the newspapers “Literaturen forum” (Literary Forum), “Iskra” (Spark), “Marica”, “Sega” (Now), “Literaturen vestnik” (Literary Journal) and others.

In 2009 her third poetry book “Cities and other islandswas published. In August 2009 Stanislava participated in the London poetry festival. Her poems are included in the prestigious Jubilee European Forum.

National Competition "sms poetry", 2004
; Poetry competition of Plovdiv "P. Hilendarski; International Competition "Melnik Evenings of Poetry" 2007; National Competition "Plovdiv - Mladost 2007"; National poetry contest "Magic Love", Kazanlak 2008; National Competition "At the foot of Vitosha, Sofia, 2008; National Competition Nova Zagora, 2008; and others.

Stanoeva participated in the international Balkan Collection, 2007 and Collection of the London Poet Society in 2009. Her poetry is published in two poetry anthologies, dedicated to the young poets of Plovdiv - “Different Water” and “6 + 6”. She is a member and one of the founders of the Poetry Academy of Plovdiv. Also she is a member of the Association of the poets of Plovdiv.




 to feed silence to the water
so to tread it softly

 how many steps measure the words
on the endless road to someone

 to walk, not breathing, the steep slope
not wishing to reach the others

 and water calls you by name
to sate the drowned one inside


 Time dispelled like lightning
Heels hurt from walking

 I asked someone for the second shirt
And I felt cold in the scalding hot noontide

 I was barefoot and I learned
To turn objects into primal matter

 In the lands of the sinful one, bread sprouted
And I’m still learning to walk on water





free to choose my self
covered with sky
as with a human skin

 I’ll mark the road for the innocent one
for him to reach the lies

 underneath, white wings will shed down
to follow the course of the sinful one

 by steps
I will make
which only the blind man can see

 amidst the axiom of time
I’ll hear in the silence
   all prodigal sons returning to the herd

 and now I leave,
for freedom
to ensnare me





I stand and watch the stars
sending away their distant past

 I live amongst physical laws
which no one has seen yet

 I read fortunes on cut down boles
when and how will the Messiah be born

 trees spring up so innocent
and then become crosses for the brave

 the day’s spine is broken by many fatigues
under its crutches I build a nest for angels

 death is a dwelling place for the living
our final form of silence





 birds flew away
before dawn

 the sky remained airless

 the black stork
got stranded on the horizon –
a dark ship of happiness

 I was watching
the sky crumbled like bread
crumb by crumb the first drops fell

is the first day of snow
as white as all storks




* * *


Black crows come flying
and form up by age.
Outside, the thin road
is silent and pale.

The noise is inside us
and it is so usual
that if snowflakes flit,
they’re only delusional.

Copyright ©  2010 Stanislava Stanoeva