What should I call you, one known by many names
When you are both a sinner to be stoned
And a goddess to be adored

Which name should I give you
You trembling trickster
You unfinished dream
You ill-bred premonition

Slippery, as an eel
You pass through my thoughts
With sights set for the depths
Trickily, as dry sand you plunge between the hot days
Of the faraway summer that reigns over
Father’s plots

And in the sweetness of the first cornstalks in Borievo
I can sense you
And in the warmth of the roasted chestnuts sold in the Skopje streets
Invisible and omniscient
With all its sighs and caresses
What should I call your miracle
Love, mother of many names?

 

Translated by: Bela Gligorova