Eastern Night Ripens

/, Blesok no. 07/Eastern Night Ripens

Eastern Night Ripens

A Fountain by the Road
A Waft of Prayer
Calm be the Hand of the Caresser
Noon Prayer
Eastern Night Ripens

Shall we ever make
earrings from the stars,
my goldsmith,
the after life spirit of metal?

In solemn chiming in deep silence
when Hiram the smelter crosses his arms,
when dawn raises its eyelid,
when Erasmus takes a walk
from Babylon to Vatican
for once –

We shall make
far away from
wise Alilay’s ear,
from the underground daughter’s step
towards the tabernacle of the earthlover –
from the molten starry scum,
we shall make
and not just once
and not only in this leisure song,

L. Ivanovska

AuthorBranko Cvetkoski
2018-08-21T17:23:59+00:00 February 1st, 1999|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 07|0 Comments