Poem Hunter
SJ ( / )


There the hungry wolf
with his teeth
has ripped out the hot entrails.

There the fugitive convict
stone by stone
has dug his grave.

There the naked dead
on a table of their bones
have chopped up the moon.

There the rutting stags,
their antlers entangled,
have turned into skeletons.

There on hard arid ground
sorcerers have woven
a wedding feast banner from their veins.

The groom is the wind,
the bride is the mist.

Amazingly in their cradle
(a handful of earth and hope)
a nameless flower opens.

Let's go and name it:
let it be called Dream.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 2 votes ) 2

Comments (2)

Slavko Janevski has, unfortunately, passed away six years ago. Therefore, he cannot write more of those verses. He's one of hte mst famous Macedonian poets, and novelists.
your poems have a curt imagery, a brusque beauty.Do create more verses