POETRY

A HYMN FOR THE UPCOMING FALL

By

Marija Makeska

My grandma used to dance every year

On the white and black grapes

Holding her old dress

And smiling at me,

Me, a first-born

Me, a child of a Zeus

The smart little girl,

And I never dared to join her,

But I watched with curiosity,

And then grandpa would sing

All the beautiful songs

Of his childhood

And the Second World War,

While the wine and the rakiya get fermented,

Mom would come out

With a large amount of sweet pepper

To make the sweetest pindzur

And some fresh fruit for slatko and jam,

Dad and uncle would bring a pig

For a sacrifice to our land,

Even Zeus and Helios would hear

The scream of that pig,

And sense the smell of the wine

Breathe the smell of the jam,

And I, the happy kid,

Running across the old grandma’s yard,

Now a grown up in a fast changing world,

I’m still asking myself…

… where are the days when people worked together?

TO THE HOLY EARTH MOTHER II

By

Marija Makeska

Six thousand summers,

Oh beautiful woman

Six thousand summers old!

Six thousand times you have grown crops

Six thousand autumns wine was made

Six thousand years the Sun rose above you

Six thousand bloody fights

Six thousand holly nights with prayers

So many gallons of tears

Of our fateful mothers

Who covered their face in black

To be unnoticed

Until their own fate arrives

Six thousand names you bare,

Holy Earth Mother

Your spirit in every man, woman and child

Who define themselves as your children

Give them six thousand lives and deaths

To fight against the spilling of blood,

And receive this song as a gift

On your sixth thousand and first spring

And make my love everlasting for you.