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
