TRANSLATED FROM THE MACEDONIAN BY ZORAN ANCHEVSKI

THE VILLAGES OF MOUNT ATHOS ¹

The monasteries of Mount Athos are villages of the Holy Mother of God

       Dementian of Chilandar 

The bigger
the cities
we come from
to Mount Athos
the greater
our loneliness.

And here the monasteries
wait for us –
the serene villages
of the Mother of God,
the flowery meadows
with blossoming trees.

The fragrant alleys
of monks
who piously,
in peaceful prayer,
sing like
heavenly birds.

The bigger
the cities
we come from
to Mount Athos
the greater the joy
to meet the heavenly citizens.

DURATION

                        Duration is called life

Gilles Deleuze, Bergsonism

Duration without
and duration within us
are two different durations.

Duration within
and duration without us
are two equal durations.

Purged duration
is always different
and always equal.

The past,
the present
and the future,

on Mount Athos
live and last
creatively.

SEA AND MONASTERY

Only
on Mount Athos
could I turn
my back to the sea.

Only
on Mount Athos
the eyes first seek for
the arched entrance
to the inside of the monastery.

Only
on Mount Athos
the eyes always
guide you to the cross
of the central church.

Only
on Mount Athos
beauty is not
the nature behind us
but the spirit before us.

Only
on Mount Athos
the morning prayer
is always unique
and filled with bliss.

Only
on Mount Athos
the evening prayer
summons so many young,
but also so many ancient monks.

Only
on Mount Athos
could I turn
my back to the sea.

                                                  September 2010, Philotheou Monastery, Mount Athos

ABOVE THE BELL

A bell rings. Somewhere far away

                         Mateja Matevski

Beneath me, there, a bell rings.
Beneath me, nearby, it rings.

My body is
a tuning fork,
I touch it –
the vibrations stop.
The resonance brakes waves
in the ears.

It rings beneath me,
beneath me, nearby.

The floorboards
of the guest room
are nailed to beams –
I peep through
and spot a bell,
ringing gleefully.

It rings beneath me,
beneath me, nearby.
The bed I sleep in
is right above the bell
of the Konstamonitou
monastery.
Beneath the room, a porch –
above the bell, a bed.

It rings beneath me,
beneath me, nearby.

                                  September, 2011, Konstamonitou Monastery – Mount Athos

¹All the poems are from the poetry collection The Light of Mount Athos (Skopje, 2015), recepient of the “Brothers Miladinov Prize” at the Festival Struga Poetry Evenings in 2016.

Also, read a book review of  The Memory Police by Yōko Ogawa , reviewed by Ahana Bhattacharjee, and published in The Antonym:

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