Hi all.
I wasn't really keen on doing anything tonight, but posting on here beats boredom, doesn't it?
I'm not even sure I want to keep this up anymore, as the topics I post about are barely seen/read, let alone popular.
Still, many thanks to those who read and comment on my posts, it is much appreciated.
Anyhoo, I found another poem from my teen days (yay?) that I translated into English for you. I'm gonna post the translation of the poem as close as it appears in the original in Macedonian.
as it has been seventeen years since I've written this one, I can't really remember what inspired me to write it, but it can't have been pleasant, judging by the word choice and overall emotion. It must have been something school-related, as my life back then was pretty much bookish and homework-ish.
who knows.
Who?
Some questions
I cannot answer
It wasn’t long ago when I could walk
when I could see the lonely over the visible,
when I knew to lead my spirit through endurance,
the spirit of wandering,
of shipwrecked things
the spirit buried, nailed on a century of loneliness
Yes, I really could walk, I even started running,
but why did I start crawling,
why does mud soak my pant legs,
the sun doesn’t know, nor the sky, nor Mercury,
just a few people I don’t know.
The footsteps rumbling behind me
aren’t mine nor yours,
but somebody’s
don’t ask whose,
we may be heard by their owner
It wasn’t long ago when I could walk,
and don’t ask,
or else,
back to the start.
21 June 2001
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Now, I may not have the time to tear into this poem and start deconstructing it like I did for this one right here.
But, time-permitting, I'll try to rework it and show multiple versions of the process .
In the meantime, enjoy your day!
