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ISSN 1409-6900 | UDK 82+7     Blesok no. 105 | volume  | January, 2016



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                     Peer-reviewed journal
Blesok no. 105January, 2016
Poetry

Poetry

Translated by Gorjan Kostovski and Elida Bahtijaroska


/10
p. 2
Nikolina Andova Shopova

We dwindle
Blessed is that which we cannot touch
Commas
On passwords, by Gibran
Bread
In my body
Knock before entering
High
Let's escape from time
I'm closing

_______________________________________________________________________

Blessed is that which we cannot touch

Blessed are the distances and the places to which we will never go
    and the tight smooth nightgown drying on the balcony across from us
Blessed is death that remembers the addresses
    of all our unsent letters
and the gods we try but cannot reach
like the cobwebs in the corner between the bed and the wall
Blessed is the Moon served on the sky
    like a dish of someone who dines alone all the time
and the Sun reminding us
one can love from afar
Blessed is the freedom and our illusion that we have touched it
    like we touch life through screens and displays
Blessed is the past that sticks to us
like long-lasting lipstick on our mouths
    and the future besmeared by red stains
    resistant even to the most advertised of detergents
Blessed are the seas which we will never swim across
because of the water landmarks and the theories of safety
Blessed is the soft hair of a girl
    that nearly, very nearly touched me
    in a bus crowd






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