No Bread Crust and other Poems




No Bread Crust and other Poems


 Translated from Macedonian to English: Dolores Atanasova Lori




When I was little I used to be a skinny child

my father would sit next to me

to make sure I would eat

two slices of bread, without the crust.


Time turns the tables

now I sit next to my father

to make sure he eats

two slices of bread, without the crust.






In the end, what remains is the husk,

an empty open shell.

In the end words abandoned him,

he would only repeat “come on” and “give it here”

and he was reaching out for death

as a newborn reaches out for life.






Missing someone will get you

when everything settles down

when you least expect it

the heavy arm of sadness

pulls you down.






We throw away the nail clippings

as if they had never been a part of us.

The same way the soul turns its back to the body

when it departs.








Sometimes I have the feeling he is alive,

as if he got stuck at work

the play hadn’t started on time

they must’ve been encored

he will show up any minute now,

there he is, about to show up at the door.