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Thursday, June 1, 2023
OPA JUNE 2023
GORDANA KARAKASHEVSKA: AN INTERVIEW
NILAVRONILL TALKING WITH
POET OF THE MONTH
GORDANA KARAKASHEVSKA
JUNE 2023
NILAVRONILL: Why do literature and poetry in particular interest you so much? Please give us some idea about your own perception of literature or poetry in general.
GORDANA KARAKASHEVSKA: In poetry I show my vulnerability and sometimes I hide it there.
Through my books I talk about the tragedy of society and man as an individual.
I see my work in the field of literature and literature as a quiet, solitary
art. However, I categorically refuse to write or paint according to society's
standards. I avoid trends, I'm almost not interested in striving to be
according to society's standards. In my works, pain affects. Life is the basis
of writing poetry, of art. I believe that literature is an oasis of life.
Finally, through my books I deal with the fear of death.
NILAVRONILL: How do you relate your own self existence with your literary life in one hand, and the time around you, in the other.
GORDANA KARAKASHEVSKA: For me, poetry is the art of
remembering, of memory (individual and collective). As a poet, I never leave my
world of ideas and my "magic formula". For me, every poem, mine or by
another author, expresses a vision of the world. This means that poetry is a
synergy of time and words. My poetry is many things. Poetry is an overflow of
feelings. Poetry makes me shiver. Perhaps the most significant characteristic
of poetry is its inability to be defined, marked, or pinned down.
NILAVRONILL: Do you believe creative souls flourish more in turmoil than in peace?
GORDANA KARAKASHEVSKA: I believe that peace and turmoil
are equally important and complement each other. Sometimes peace is around us
but unrest is inside us. And vice versa. Sometimes there is unrest around us
but we have peace in our heart, soul and thoughts.
NILAVRONILL: Do you think in this age of information and technology the dimensions of literature have been largely extended beyond our preconceived ideas about literature in general?
GORDANA KARAKASHEVSKA: Today everything is fast and
mostly disposable. The advantage of books is in their slowness and repetitiveness
in reading. We live in an age of loneliness, materialism and iPhones. People of
this time are not interested in the truth, and even less in love, and with
that, romance. The focus is only and strictly on money. Money determines
everything. I sincerely hope that after everything, I mean after the Covid-19
pandemic, the world will experience a renaissance.
NILAVRONILL: Now, in this changing scenario we would like to know from your own life experiences as a poet, writer and a creative soul: How do you respond to this present time?
GORDANA KARAKASHEVSKA: I like quality literature, to create such is very difficult. The book should be original. Freedom exists in the writer's head just as art exists, and literature is a part of art. Since the beginning of this year I started working on books for children, which I also plan to draw illustrations. The illustrations in my books are the culture. These are large and complex projects that, above all, take a lot of time. However, what is important is what remains afterwards.
NILAVRONILL: Do you believe that all writers are by and large the product of their nationality? And is this an incentive for or an obstacle against becoming a truly international writer?
GORDANA KARAKASHEVSKA: I believe that every writer is a
product of several factors: education, talent, nationality and history, the
opportunities available in the country in which they create, the environment,
the time and place in which they write, and their own ambitions.
NILAVRONILL: Now, if we try to understand the tradition and modernism, do you think literature can play a pivotal role in it? If so, how? Again, how can an individual writer relate himself or herself to the tradition and to modernism?
GORDANA KARAKASHEVSKA: Literature stands as a bridge
between tradition and modernism. Without tradition we would not know who we are
and without modernism it is impossible to know where we are going and what we
are striving for. Back in time, throughout history, tradition was a great
inspiration for many artists who drew ideas for new works from there. For
example, it is almost impossible to write a book without writing something
about the characters' past.
NILAVRONILL: Do you think literary criticism has much to do with the development of a poet and the true understanding of his or her poetry?
GORDANA KARAKASHEVSKA: Literary critics are in charge
of carefully reading new literary publications, analyzing and evaluating their
content, their linguistic and stylistic aspects, and the way in which the
contents of the works are presented. Therefore, they must make clear and
precise criticisms. Literary criticism tries to guide readers, therefore,
objectivity must prevail in order to present a balanced review of a work,
because, from this, the reader can have a general idea of what can be found in
the book, what is the style of the author and if it is of your interest. It is
so in theory, but in practice literary criticism (here, in Macedonia) does not
have a great influence in the development of the poet or poetess and the
understanding of his or her poetry. Unfortunately, we are witnessing a biased
forcing of certain names that, although untalented, with family and friendly
connections manage to impose themselves. However, time is the best judge. Time
is a filter. Quality will filter through it at the expense of quantity.
NILAVRONILL: Do you think society as a whole is the key factor in shaping you up as a poet, or your poetry altogether?
GORDANA KARAKASHEVSKA: I would say that the family, the
environment in which I grew up and the way I was brought up were decisive
factors in the formation and building of me as a person, character and author.
NILAVRONILL: Do you think people in general actually bother about literature? Do you think this consumerist world is turning the average man away from serious literature?
GORDANA KARAKASHEVSKA: Each time has its own beauty and
advantages. No matter how fast technological and industrial development is,
there will always be people who will write books and people who will read
books. Not even artificial intelligence will be able to replace writers any
more than photography has replaced painters. Personally, I would never want to
read a book written by artificial intelligence because I know that there are no
real emotions and feelings in that work. Maybe I would be curious and read, but
nothing more than that.
NILAVRONILL: We would like to know the factors and the peoples who have influenced you immensely in the growing phase of your literary life.
GORDANA KARAKASHEVSKA: When I was in school it was the
poetry of Blaze Koneski, Ante Popovski, Aco Shopov, Guillaume Apollinaire,
Arthur Rimbaud, Marina Tsvetaeva, Ana Ahmatova, Rabindranath Tagore, John
Keats, Emily Dickinson and Sylvia Plath. Later I fell in love with Francis
Scott Fitzgerald, Virginia Woolf, Jerome D. Salinger, Franz Kafka and James
Joyce. Nowadays, I read Wislawa Szymborska, Elfriede Jelinek, Haruki Murakami,
Margaret Atwood, and Erika Jong.
NILAVRONILL: How would you evaluate your contemporaries and what are your aspirations for or expectation from the younger generation?
GORDANA KARAKASHEVSKA: I live in a time when the
Macedonian language and nation are denied, attacked and belittled, that's why I
look forward to every newly published book in Macedonia and abroad, and the
younger generations got all my support.
NILAVRONILL: Humanity has suffered immensely in the past, and is still suffering around the world. We all know it well. But are you hopeful about our future?
GORDANA KARAKASHEVSKA: It's hard to be optimistic in
this world. It is almost impossible. I do not foresee anything good for
humanity in the long term. IF we evolve into conscientious human beings, then
perhaps there is hope for survival.
NILAVRONILL: What role can literature in general play to bring a better day for every human being?
GORDANA KARAKASHEVSKA: Literature serves as a bridge
for the communication of knowledge, customs and culture of nations. the role
the author takes in writing a work and his responsibility to his readers and
the story is great. It must be understood that every literary work has a
message that will affect those who read it, for better or for worse. Herein
lies the importance of the commitment the writer undertakes in its creation.
The language we use every day to exchange information has a communicative
function. When the language is raised to a different, aesthetic level, then it
has a poetic (aesthetic) function. The beauty of linguistic expression is the goal
of literature. And in literature we get information, but they are not ordinary,
everyday, but have an aesthetic function. Literature is an art whose means of
expression is the word. Artistic literature vividly represents life and the
world.
GORDANA KARAKASHEVSKA: Gordana
Karakashevska is a poet, writer, essayist and translator. She is the author of
the novel "Undressing", the book of short stories "Signor
Giordano and..." and the books of poetry "The Broken Poet and Other
Poems" and "House of Paper". This year (2023), her fifth book
and third collection of poems, "The Path of Water", is going to be
published. Her great passion is painting. Photography is her hobby.
GORDANA KARAKASHEVSKA
Love
Shi enters in
the eyes
In January she
dances on your forehead
Shi descends to
the chin
Makes a nest in
the heart
Shi swims in the
blood
Shi smells
through the pores
In August, the
sun shines on the abdomen
To keep your feet
warm in December
And so on
Shi wastes the
seasons
Until the last
July when
Shi breaks your
heart.
What else can be
said?
Breath
January…
I walk fast in
the dark
I cut the cold
air
and I imagine
your warm breath…
the streets in
front of me
becomes a story
in which we hold
our hands…
I am the one
you have been
waiting for
your whole life
I smile,
I turn into a
whispers
who becomes a
song.
Ariel
Dedicated to
Sylvia Plat
The lady comes
out of her glass bell
to stretch her
legs,
To put the potatoes
to boil
for those two
hungry mouths
to talk to the
bees
to greet death
Shi is always
here,
sitting in her
place next to the door.
The typewriter
is silent
The clean lines
of the dresses fall
Here she is,
trying to recognize her father
- Life is dying,
don't you see?
Do not you hear
the voice of Ariel who has become an echo,
an echo that
fills time?
The lady enter
in her glass bell
To turning on
the gas
To close the
door tightly
To singing to a
death
To say goodbye
to winter
To welcoming an eternity
To put her head
in the oven.
* Ariel is a
masculine name meaning "lion of God" in Biblical Hebrew.
GORDANA KARAKASHEVSKA
GORDANA KARAKASHEVSKA: Poet, essayist,
writer, artist, photographer was born on January 31, 1973 in Pehchevo,
Macedonia. She attends primary school in Pehchevo and high school in Skopje in
EPU Boris Kiddrich. Since then, she has lived, worked and created in Skopje
with the exception of a few years of her life when she lived and worked in
Turin, Italy and they will leave a deep mark on her as a creative person and
artist. She deals with art and in her free time with photography. She has been
writing since she was thirteen years old, when she actively participated in
regional competitions in art and literary works. For her, writing is a way of
life and art is a universal language. She writes poems and short stories, both
in Macedonian. Italian, Serbian and in English. Her poems have been translated
into other languages and published in domestic and international online groups,
magazines as well as anthologies. Book of short stories "Signor Giordano
and the thoughts about ...; A book of poetry "Broken Poet and Other
Poems" and a novel "Nudity" came out in April / May 2021. Her
new book "House of Paper" was published in April 2022 and its
promotion is scheduled for May 12. She
is currently working on her second novel with the working title "The City,
the River and the Lake" and hopes that she will be able to publish her
books of poetry and short stories next year. She has had several joint and
several solo art exhibitions in Turin, Italy and in her hometown. In her free time she is engaged in
photography, visiting exhibitions in galleries, museums and other cultural
events, theater, cinema, opera and ballet, in a word she lives for art and art
in all its forms.
ZLATAN DEMIROVIĆ
While Hearts Are Beating
While they shoot at each other,
their hearts still beat,
regardless of thoughts without tears,
all kinds of ideas, only fears,
with the only goal, to hit!
But hearts do
not think,
do not guess,
rather,
they know very
well
and they have
power,
while they hold
the key to life,
they also
connect
with other
hearts,
wherever they
are
and whichever
side they are on...
They beat,
and we are not
interested in that magic,
because,
it's how we were
taught,
that it's just
an organ,
but not the
lighthouse
and the only one
navigator
through life,
which we must
follow,
and without it,
we are lost
in the middle of
the unknown sea...
In the duality
of separation,
through the
prism of subjectivity,
for us are
visible and separated,
only:
"They", "We",
and in the
middle of everything,
our lost and
vulnerable "I"!
While hearts are
beating,
they are still
shooting and hitting...
all until
hearts are
beating...
©® Zlatan Demirović-USA
Universal Chords
In plural being,
all exudes peace and harmony.
In accordance
with unstable
and stable
currents,
which flow
through waterfalls
of infinite
dimensions
in the final
calm of resolved tensions.
No tension, or
longing for
unattainable,
no resolution is
created,
with intention
and with the goal
of returning to
the peace of prosperity.
The stone of
existential stumbling blocks,
through magical
sound
unresolved
chords,
full of creative
potential
plunges through
whirlpools and geysers
lakes of
timeless stability
and final
relaxation Wednesday
bringing the
road to an end.
The universal
mind composes that symphony!
Decreased
chords, raises, and downs,
are planetary
systems, which tend to
towards
unification into galaxies.
Sad vibrations
of nostalgic moles
bear the shadow
of the unfulfilled,
sometimes
neglected scores,
interplanetary
bridges of minor tonic
full of
aspirations for the expansion of the chromatics of joy.
In the record of
that Great Work,
everything
gravitates towards a safe path
dominant chords.
But there is no
smoke and mays,
which, as if
calling for action
universal full
consciousness,
which carelessly
hovers in an endless whirlwind
microparticles
of stardust.
And all that
until the final crescendo
and explosions
of the universal core
with the birth
of new stars
in the
dominant-winning major ...
Dear,
I would have to
tell you everything again,
But, by some
miracle,
I always run out
of words ...
©® Zlatan Demirović
Is It The End
Is this the end
or just a beginning?
The moss of
civilization,
god like
creation, spicily conducted by Lucifer’s baton,
spills the green
landscape of speck dust, blue ball.
“Why we must
die,”
a philosopher
asked his audience at the funeral.
Without dying,
the Universe will be just a museum,
replied the
Nowhere, crying for the wounded bird
fluttering its
wings in the middle of the road.
Why should we
live such a short life,
obese man just
asked, sunk into his comfort.
The journey of
experience is endless and reversible,
screamed the
raven from the gravedigger’s shoulder.
Whatever else it
comes from this frontal-lobe.
thinking brain
today,
I would say,
I really love
these flashy broken mornings-
interwoven with
the endless ocean breathing...
©® Zlatan Demirović
ZLATAN DEMIROVIĆ
ZLATAN DEMIROVIĆ: Bilingual book
writer, novelist, critic, internationally acknowledged poet, and trilingual
translator (English, Czech, Bosnian-Croatian-Serbin languages). * The founder
of PRODIGY LIFE ACADEMY and author of the PRODIGY LIFE PROGRAM, which serves as
a platform for spiritual and personal development. * Founder and Editor in
Chief of PRODIGY PUBLISHED-USA. * Founder and Editor of PRODIGY MAGAZINE-USA.
Translated into: Italian, French, Spanish, Portuguese, German, Swedish, Greek, Turkish,
Chinese, Russian, Japanese, Hindu, Bengal, BCS (Bosnian, Croatian, Serbian),
Albanian, Dutch, Hausa Nigerian, Arabic, Aleut (Alaska), Pakistan,
Bahasa-Indonesia, Kurdish, Persian, Azerbaijan, Tajik, Bulgarian, Romanian,
Hebrew, Punjabi, Slovenian, Czech, Slovak, Tamil, Uzbek, Kyrgyz, Nepali, Assam,
and more, on the way.
ZAKHRO SHAMSIYYA
1
Oh, my friend,
To be honest, I
cannot understand you.
We talk to each
other in different languages.
You are always
saying something I don’t know
And I always
answer: “We are colleagues!”
Oh, my friend,
Race and
language do not matter for us
Even social
status is not important.
I know that you
are also proud with me,
You recite poems
of Mashrab by heart.
I read works of
Goethe for you,
Verses by
Pushkin always make us cry.
Dumbadze, O
Henry, and Makhtumkuli…
I recite ghazels
of Navoi so high.
Staring with
astonishment in your picture,
Even though you
do not know who I am,
You follow my
words only with silence
And you pray God
to ask for a safe world.
Either in Azeri,
either in Turkish
Or in English
language you send your hello.
Oh, my friend,
I thank you
bending my stubborn head down
In the
destinations of our pure love.
We have the same
goal and the same dream,
We are on the
way for the same destination.
We both are
sharing the same world to live
Saving this
world is our ambition.
Oh, my friend,
May we be always
proud,
I hope our
children will follow our path.
We have pure
dream and greatest goal
Because we
possess the greatest heart.
Oh, my friend,
I thank you
bending my head down…
Episodes Of Night
Grasshoppers
chirp with a loud voice
As if Tashkent
is being boiled in bowl.
There, far away,
with seductive look
Some prostitutes
are smoking cigarette.
Cars are
flooding in the magistral
They pause a
little without any aim.
From Nexia up to
Nissan you may see
Smoke of cigarette
is swallowed by fate.
Returning from
work, hurrying to home
People are on
the road whose shoulders in pain.
They think about
sorrows and life problems
However, all
their thinking is in vain.
Somewhere an
infant is crying nonstop
Maybe he was also
abandoned by someone.
Maybe his mother
now holding a cup of wine
Sharing her
kisses to another man.
Someone is
crying and praying for God
Hoping that
Almighty will hear his words.
Maybe it is the
very day written by his fate
In which all his
sins will be forgiven.
Something broke
down accidentally
The life of
complaint came to its end.
Night, why your
embrace is full of sadness?
I thank God that
I have reached the dawn.
Rain
Rain,
You may rain,
Wash this dirty
world,
Wash the street
of hatred,
Street of envy,
And the evil of
our souls.
You may rain,
Let the earth be
clear,
Let the tulips
blossom in the embrace of hatred,
Never let
children to cry in pain,
And wash the
hands of ugliness,
Wash the throat
of those whose tongue is poisonous,
Rain!!!
Expel the odds
to the middle of nowhere,
So that they
understand who they are.
May the world be
beautiful,
May it be full
of fragrance.
May stars never
fade in the sky,
Rain,
Come with hope
in every drop,
Actually, peace
is the greatest joy.
Rain,
Oh, my rain,
Rain nonstop.
Myself
Never ask me,
please, who am I myself
Myself is a
couple of verses on paper.
My self will
save myself, and I hope
For those who
left me it is bad news.
Myself is
different, differs from me,
Far away from
those who are so selfish,
May myself is
not visible for everyone,
But myself will
never abandon myself.
One day I will
go shaking my hand to all,
From the arenas
which disappointed me.
I will tear the
dress of arrogance myself
Then I will
throw it from mountain.
A moment, only a
moment is enough
When myself
starts a rebel inside me.
I do not wait
for a clap from hands,
For me being
myself is the greatest honor.
I am never
afraid of foxes, no, no,
Even any jury
cannot threaten me.
I am so proud of
being myself,
I am thankful of
God for being me.
Never ask me,
please, who am I,
Rather read my
poems, read my verses.
Beginning
One day I lose
my life, it is clear
One day I will
return to the Creator.
And all my
collected pains and sorrows
I will only
retell to my only God.
One day my body
will disappear,
Maybe I will be
reborn as a basil.
Being happy from
my death
One day my
haters will have a party.
Passing through
alley with silence
I hear all the
gossips they tell.
Now my poems
will become orphan,
Now I only live
in my poems.
But the world
remains the same,
Thousand years
again it stays still.
All the lies,
all the fake faces,
And ignorance in
the gene.
All the lips
whisper one by one,
Thanks God, I am
far away.
Blind souls
never recover,
I am not related
to earth any more.
The only thing
tortures me is
My days that I
spent aimless.
And incomplete
writings of mine,
My voice that
paused on my throat as well.
One day I lose
my life, it is clear
One day I will
return to the Creator.
Asking God to
revive inside of me
I will utter the
name of my elder son.
SHARIPOVA ZUHRO SUNNATOVNA
SHARIPOVA ZUHRO
SUNNATOVNA
(Zahro Shamsiyya) She was born on April 9, 1969 in the Nurata district of
the Navoi region. Her first poem was published in 1985 by Yilda
"Gülhan" a journalist. Uzbek publications published works in the
journal "Sharq Yulduzi", in the literature and art of Uzbekistan, in
the newspaper "Uzbekistan capital va sanat" "Kitob dunyosi"
- "Ma'rifat", turli viloyat va regional newspapers. World Albums in
Canada, -2017 in Dubai WBA 2018 "Turkish poets of the world" (Buta 3)
(Buta 5) 2019, "Muhammad Yusuf izdoshlari" 2017 albummax. She
published her book "Ismsiz tuigular"
XANTHI HONDROU-HILL
Singing For The Earth
To sing for you,
is like asking a
child to sing to his dying mother
...for his
hometown, his identity...
We humans used
you and abused you.
We, the army of
salvation.
We, the army of
destruction.
We eat you
inside out.
We, the ever
hungry for more
always thirsty
for victory.
against all odds
with fertilizers
and sprays...
chasing you away
away from the
paths of nature
they chase after
your creatures and your legends.
Your melodies
are lost in the veins of progress.
We conquered the
earth first.
then the water,
now the air.
We carved our
names in the age of stone.
But we have lost
simplicity.
And we don't
want to find our way back.
To make peace
with you.
To sing for you
To sing with you
It means we know
that eternity
survives without
us.
Eternal Reminder
With the
Perfection the sky joins the sea
the signs of
Mörike's blue ribbon in the air,
the light of
Odysseus Elytis, the peace of Pablo Neruda...
Among blossoming
peach and cherry trees wandering speechless
On the mountain
tops
with a wild wish
of youth in the mind
with a wild herb
in the hand
looking down to
the hills of nature’s passion
in breathless
excitement
on the pebble
beaches with open arms
embracing the
width of the horizon
open borders
between countries and continents
overwhelmed by
the blossoming breeze
with a poem on
the lips, memories in the eyes, marks on the soul
spring is
preserved in the hearts
through all
seasons
throughout the
years and decades
Throughout all
our life
spring remains
eternal reminder
of unstoppable hope
Digital Reality
I look into my
sustainable development
As I decay in
the lock down...
The nature and
my nature
Suppressed
And replaced
With green
technology
I have reduced
my raw material requirements
I no longer send
things or touch anything
And no one.
I live with the
promise of longevity
But with the
necessary protection
Of personal
responsibility.
I pop in to
digital presentations
And salon talks
from my living room...
I am absent at
weddings, baptisms and funerals
...Always in
compliance with legal requirements...
I do not provide
assistance,
Because the
needy kill the helpers.
I do not move
I am stuck on a
hyphen
Between immunity
and health.
On my short
commutes
for personal
exercises
I exist as an
interested customer
As a
representative number
Of political
editors
As an
uncertainty
In a digital
future...
XANTHI HONDROU-HILL
XANTHI HONDROU-HILL: Xanthi Hondrou-Hill has studied German and English
Literature, Linguistics, Journalism and Public Relations Management in Germany.
She has worked as Public Relations Manager at the Greek Consulate in Stuttgart,
as teacher for German, Greek and English and is translating poetry from and to
all three languages. She is an award-winning Greek poetess who gained
international recognition. She is writing poetry since high school and her
poems have been published in many international prestigious media and
anthologies around the world. She has won in 2022 the first prize at the
Gandhian Global Harmony Association and many awards in China, Ukraine,
Philippines and Equator. She has been nominated as one of the 30 Stars
worldwide in India. She is cultural Ambassador for OXYGEN PEN Sri Lanka,
NAMASTE magazine in India and editor for poetry columns at www.faretra.info in
Greece and HUMANITY in Russia, as well as co-editor for the international
poetry magazine in China. Selections of her poetry have been translated into
Arabic, Chinese, French, German, Greek, Italian, Portuguese, Russian, Spanish,
Slavic as well as in two Languages of India: Hindi and Bengali.
VICTORIA SOKOLOVSKAYA
1
***
whistling the
melodies of the wind rose
in the heart of
the northern city,
following the
faded footprints of those
who passed that
way before you were blamed guilty,
just walk –
seeking for His justice and will
between silent
stones and yellow mud,
just move –
until the sharpest blade of thrill
is showing them
your way by the line of blood.
don’t catch the
cold flames of their fire,
it’s your route,
you don’t really need 'em.
He’ll be there –
at the point of your entire
freedom.
2
***
Over. No hugs.
No kisses.
Nothing about
love.
Where are the
precious feelings
sent from the
high above?
Where are the
days I treasured
when each of
them was new?
Where are the
nights I measured
only by loving
you?
Being in love
and honest,
haven’t I
suffered yet?
Wish I can be
the strongest
woman you’ve
ever met.
3
***
She is thinking
of you. She is starting each day by the picture
of your
beautiful face, of your thoughtful and caring eyes.
She is thinking
of how you are carefully teaching a teacher,
how you’re
calling her ‘sunshine’… And, honestly, no one denies
that she’s worth
it. And feeling your everyday patience and care
she just
couldn’t ignore it. It’s been so fantastic and new
that she’s
started to feel – she can fly, she can go anywhere
being all by
herself, being happy… and thinking of you.
VICTORIA SOKOLOVSKAYA
VICTORIA SOKOLOVSKAYA: Born in Polotsk,
Belarus. Started writing poetry at 16. The author of 3 books of poetry: “The
Lady-Bird” (2005), “My Poems” (2010), “Egyptian Notebook” (2019). Laureate of
the World Literary and Poetry Competition “The Golden Lyre of Hope” from the
First Literary Museum of A.S. Pushkin in the USA (New York, 2003). II degree
Laureate of the International Literary Contest dedicated to Agniya Barto’s
115th Anniversary (Sydney, Australia, 2021).
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