The Carnival of the Poets - original song by@shemzee

This is an acoustic performance of one of my more satirical pieces—just me, a guitar, and a story that doesn’t try to stay polite. “Карнавалът на поетите” (“The Carnival of the Poets”) lives in that space where music and irony meet.

It draws from the tradition of satirical songwriting, where exaggeration, humor, and discomfort are all tools to reflect something real—often by pushing it just far enough to feel absurd. With nothing but voice and strings, the focus stays on the words and their bite: a playful but pointed look at ego, desire, and the strange theater that can form around art and those who create it.

This song is based on a poem written by my friend Stanimir Dmitrov.
The poem works as sharp satire of artistic circles, especially the idea of poets as both sensitive souls and performers trapped in ego, desire, and spectacle.

The “carnival” isn’t just a party—it’s a metaphor:

Art becomes performance rather than truth
Passion mixes with vanity, lust, and social climbing
The line between authenticity and absurdity blurs

There’s a strong contrast running through it:

“Tender hearts” vs. crude physicality
“Immortal truths” vs. chaotic, almost grotesque imagery
Idealized poets vs. very human weaknesses

The “boar” figure feels symbolic—almost like a caricature of the celebrated artist:
admired, elevated, but also ridiculous and driven by ego.

The ending line “The poets will change the world!” lands with a layer of irony.
After everything we’ve seen, it reads less like a declaration and more like a question:
can they really? Or are they lost in their own carnival?

Translation (English)

The Carnival of the Poets

Straddling tables, they twist and they prance,
the poets with tender hearts lost in the dance.
Sweet poetesses teasing, their bodies on show,
with damp, open thighs in the flickering glow.

Up on the table, the party ignites,
with plates turned to rhythms and dishes to rites.
A boar, grinning wide like a saint in a frame,
jumps lively — op-sa! — calling out for acclaim.

And he is a poet — “the Best,” so they say,
see how he gazes, above us all, gray.
A great man, of course — bravo! they cry,
as he joyfully throws his weight to the sky.

A shy little girl steals a glance from below,
she wants him, poor thing — it’s starting to show.
An erotic poetess, tender yet whole,
with a trembling, bell-ringing, fragile soul.

His wallet weighs more than the belly he bears,
a man must have “weight” — at least, so declares.
Her legs start to falter, she sways in the light,
then winks at him boldly, inviting the night.

Then bursts come in passion, in rhythm, in rhyme,
moist lips under green-tinted heavens of time.
Immortal truths wrapped in words overheard...
The poets will change the world.

Original Bulgarian lyrics by Stanimir Dimitrov
Карнавалът на поетите

Разкрачени по масите, въртят кючеци,
поетите със нежните сърца.
Размахват цици сладки поетеси,
с подмокрени, разтворени бедра.
На масата отгоре е купона,
сред рими от чинии и блюда.
Един шопар засмян като икона,
подскача бодро - опа и оп-са.
И той поет и май е 'Баш поета' -
как гледа извисено над света.
Голям човек е, няма дума - евала!
С такава радост мята си гъза.
Едно девойче плахо го поглежда,
желае го горката - влюбена била.
Тя беше еротична поетеса,
с камбанена потръпваща душа.
Портфейлът е по-тежък от тумбака,
Мъжът, се знае, трябва да тежи.
Омекнаха й вече двата крака
и дръзко му намига от страни.
И следват взривове от страст и рими,
и влажни устни и зелени небеса.
Безсмъртни истини и преживени думи...
Поетите ще променят света!

I also want to take a moment to express my gratitude to @donatello and the Dance and Music Show for creating a space where free spirit and originality are not just welcomed, but truly encouraged. It’s rare to find a community that embraces both the raw and the unconventional, and that kind of support means a lot—especially for pieces like this that don’t try to fit neatly into expectations.

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