SILVANA DIMITRIEVSKA

 

Bedtime Story

 

Night descended to cover it

the gunpowder from the streets.

My son closes his eyes,

those doors that lead

to my last refuge.

When the war came she sneakily hid

between the branches of the

cherry tree and the blossoms.

I tell him a bedtime story.

In some house in the city

is the princess waiting for her rescue.

Somewhere, on the city streets

rides the prince who rushes to save her.

The deep sound of the bombs is

the step of the giant.

When he walks he shakes violently

the land of fairies.

Their world is turned upside down

and they frantically and confusedly

hang with their heads down.

My son giggles and his giggling

muffles the sound of the grenades.

I kiss his eyes and close them

not to see the bloody print

from the palm of the window.

I leave the room.

On the way out I hear him say:

The monsters that hide under the bed

in fact, they run away and are afraid of us.

 

When I’m Leaving You

 

When I’m leaving you

the silence in the room falls asleep on your ears,

outside is the mating month of the cats;

you sleep in love with screams

as a Yogin trapped in the land of Kadali

you dream dancing, like a thief, on your toes,

your dreams dyed purple

are like wild, Amazonian rains;

flowing hair of Navajo women

in a sacrificial ritual for the hunger of the gods;

When I’m leaving you

restless winds blow from the North,

somewhere far away with the cruelty of an eye

the night is raped by the stars’ tellers,

I shed my skin before my journey,

I cut a lock of hair and pour ashes on my palms,

you passionately believe in cyclicality and return,

you send shadows to follow my steps

to lead me on the left side of the world;

but you still don't know where my fingers reach

9 miles from the birth point of the fire,

always, just a step from your dreaming;

When I leave you

I return with purple rain on my forehead

and moist earth beneath the skin and bones,

when the screams lurk in the corners,

I'll be back at the exact time

when silence frees your power to listen

and cats fall asleep tired of love;

I come to you as a healer, a breath away,

after past three cycles of lunar living

I give you the advantage of one kiss

for my, now, remaining six.

 

The Shadow

 

Your steps disappear

under the weight of the shadow.

Your body is sweating

before the greatness of thought:

when will you open the roads?

that they ever took out

armies and commanders,

philosophers and rulers,

the laurel-bearers of Olympus,

the golden lips of Parnassus....

Your reflection on the asphalt is getting smaller

or the eyes are powerless before the zenith.

Time is your enemy

who still rides on your left side.

You take them out of your pockets

herbs and powders,

lizard claws,

bat tails, amalgams,

the drops of the holy river,

the tears of newborns,

the smiles of virgins....

You scatter them somewhere between the stones

but they will never become gold.

The black dog that licks your feet

sucks the marrow out of your bones,

gnaws away at remaining faith,

a piece of longing and nostalgia,

a few forgotten dreams

and... you so relieved

you can continue on your way.

The road on which more and more

your shadow disappears

under the weight of steps.

 

SILVANA DIMITRIEVSKA

 

SILVANA DIMITRIEVSKA is graduated philologist and journalist. She was the coordinator of the literary circle 'Mugri' and the editor of the poetry almanac of the same name. She is represented in the Anthology of recent Macedonian poetry for young people Purpurni izvori by Suzana V. Spasovska, the anthology One Hundred and One Poems, edited by famous Macedonian poetess Svetlana Hristova Jocic, the collection of poetry and short prose by young people from the former Yugoslav Territories “Manuscript 30”. Silvana writes poetry, short prose, essays and haiku verses. She is the author of the anthology Angels with five wings, published as part of Struga evenings of poetry. She appears as a reviewer of several collections of poetry by young authors. She is the winner of the second and third 'Blaze Koneski' prize for a scientific essay. For her first collection of poetry, “You, who came out of a song”, she won the prestige national 'Aco Karamanov' award. For her short story 'Butterfly Skirt' he won the first prize of the contest 'I tell a photo 2021' announced by the Holocaust Fund of the Jews of Macedonia. Past two years, she won several national and international awards and recognitions. This year she was one of the Laureates of the prestige World Poetry Prize “Naji Naaman” and was declared an honorable member of the Academy of Culture of the same name in Leabanon.