Poetry – Bogomil Gjuzel

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Poetry – Bogomil Gjuzel

Flood at the International Writers’ Workshop
Professional Poet
Homage to Stone
The Apocalyptic Spring
The Second Coming
A Stranger at Home, at Home Elsewhere
Breaking Up the Wall
Prometheus’ Eagle
An Island on Land
After the Flood, Them Again
The End of the Century

Homage to Stone


Stone, you that for ages fell ill love with the dust

stone, you that cure yourself falling

and still ail for the sky

you, who reject to serve anyone

gnawed by poverty

covered with pleadings, scratched with nails

worn out by bare feet

caressed in despair to bring you to life

thrown so that you may circle like a bird

around the thought until it turns to stone

tinkered with heartbeats as with a hammer

and still dumb mute

proud hard obstinate stone.


You who sacrificed both death and life

for a fiercer existence

you who rejected the temporal presence

you who were once a plant, an animal and a man

but returned to your primeval being

near the beloved dust,

you wlio brought strife into space

you who made the elements quarrel

you who imprisoned the light

you who lure us into your permanence

terrifyingly indifferent to the uninitiated—

go burst with the seed of dynamite

burst with my bad wish

proud hard obstinate stone.


You were always the unavoidable nothing

you mocked fire the stench of water

you lied to the earth

made the highest peak equal

to the depths of the abyss

you who toy with gravity

fall and get up again

in order to suffer more

where is one to find for you a peaceful depth?

Levitating incurably in the river of life

you’ll be without rest

proud hard obstinate stone.


You who like a ball break the lightnings

raise the barricade of comprehension

you who pass like flooding lava

through the rotten door of the senses

and thrown by my muscular catapult

drop in the empty space of unwritten poetry

you who like Moloch melt down the darkness

throwing the sparks of rust into the light

you who crumbled Saints’ halos

together with softened skulls

you who steadily dismantle the skeleton of air

you who will not admit a tear

until the whole eye flows out

sizzling like a hot drop of metal

incomprehensible ugly and divine

proud hard obstinate stone.


You who straighten beauty’s bones

like to a sweet woman that has no choice

but to offer herself to you

to be sucked out like a beehive,

you who dealt with the ages

we now only mention

as with a pack of snotty brats

you who assaulted the stars

until you taught them to keep their distance

you who ground down the gods

rolling them through a dry stream bed

and then slyly permitted them

to borrow for themselves your flesh

what evil what malice to you

mean vile foul exiled stone.



translated by Charles Simic

AuthorBogomil Gjuzel
2021-06-02T20:03:01+00:00 May 31st, 2021|Categories: Poetry, Literature, Blesok no. 137|0 Comments