I got up

With a nightmare under my arm.

The dawn breaks up from dream.

The road becomes a crossroad: The red thread ball stops and unites with the needles !

That s a wicked magic! My side is gone, There is no road,no sky with me !

How can I get to Skopje ? No sound from may God ! If he is a word and has a tongue, Why he is not announcing the truth ?

Ratingen, 2000.

(* Shutka is a seetlement in the city of Skopje.)

Ibraim Dzemail


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