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

A muddy motion of hatred haunts me
When at rest – it drives the butterfly from my breast
When in haste – it drives me from its sight

A treacherous fiend
In the dark hours
Enters the bed of those without sin
Uproots the bright boundaries
In their harmonious souls
Even in destiny –
The frozen whispers of horizons

O strange energy of confinement
that subdues my faith
you guard my illusions
Even the great magus from the east
Saw himself in a dream
And could not explain
Which wing was drowing in the silt of the heart
Which still flapped in the elsewhere –
Always and again
In the judgement day of the ascending chrysalis

Translation: Z. Anchevski, D. Bowen, D. Mihajlovski

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