Antology of tears by MakeDox

Anthology of tears Anthology of tears

Антологија на солзите

Anthology of tears selection and introduction by Ivan Djeparoski

MakeDox Skopje, 2012

Contents

Introduction – Ivan Djeparoski: The Fragile Firmness of the Onion: Culture, Tears and Poetry

Stéphane Mallarmé, Le marchand d’ail et d’oignons

Carl Sandburg, Onion Days 15 William Carlos Williams, To Be Hungry is to Be Great

Pablo Neruda, Oda a la cebolla 19

Wisława Szymborska, Cebula 22

Adrienne Rich, Peeling Onion

Sylvia Plath, Cut 28 Erica Jong, Fruits & Vegetables 30 Naomi Shihab Nye, The Traveling Onion 32 Carol Ann Duffy, Valentine 34 Ivan Djeparoski, The Metaphysics of the Onion 36 Ronit Bergman, The Ten Kilo Onion Sack 39 On the Authors 42 Impressum 52

The Fragile Firmness of the Onion: Culture, Tears and Poetry If “the onion is the truffle of the poor”, as the French jurist, politician, thinker, gastronome and Epicurean Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin (1755-1826), the author of the renowned book from the field of transcendental gastronomy “The Physiology of Taste” (La Psysiologie du Gout, 1825) has said, and at the same time, if the onion is the food of gods and kings, then its significance not only as part of the diet, but also as part of culture and the arts is far more considerable than one could commonsensically imagine.

The onion as food is one of the oldest and the most commonly cultivated vegetables; people knew about it in China 5000 years ago and in Sumer, Mesopotamia and Egypt 4500 years ago, having the various names and designations as cultural and linguistic evidence – in Sanskrit (palandu), in Hindu (piaz), in Hebrew (bazal), in Greek (kremmidi), in Latin (allium), in Chinese (chun), in Japanese (tamenegi), in Arabic (basal), in French (oignon), in German (zwiebel), in Spanish (cebolla), in Russian (лук), etc., which indicates that it has

been cultivated independently in different environments and at different times. This is why the symbolism attached to it is so different: in ancient Egypt the onion symbolized eternity because of its structure (circle in a circle) and this is why it can be found in the pyramid drawings from the Old and the New Kingdom of Egypt. Among the traditional symbols, the onion has been interpreted as a symbol of unity, of unity in the multitude, a symbol of the cosmos, immortality, and revelation – as you peel the layers one by one, you arrive at the center (J.C. Cooper, An Illustrated Encyclopedia of Traditional Symbols, 1987). The importance of the onion for the diet is mentioned in the well-known part from the Bible in which the sons of Israel led by Moses are passing through the Sinai Desert and some of them, losing their faith and hope that they will complete the journey, reminisce about the “good old” days in Egypt saying: “We remember the fish, which we did eat in Egypt freely; the cucumbers, and the melons, and the leeks, and the onions, and the garlic: But now our soul is dried away: there is nothing at all, beside this manna, before our eyes.” (The Fourth Book of Moses: Called Numbers, Chapter 11: 5-6).

On the other hand, more than two decades ago or so the social psychologist and anthropologist Geert Hofstede (1928) in his book “Cultures and Organization: Software of the Mind” (1991) has come up with his own interpretation of culture according to which culture is like onion – a system that one could peel, layer by

layer, so as to reveal the inside and the essence of the culture itself. He imagines culture as a big fully-formed onion and as one peels it, one could observe the various layers exerting influence, without exception in every single society, on culture. Through the various cultural practices one could identify, resembling the peeling layers of an onion, the various symbols, heroes, rituals and values of a culture. The roots of this layeredness can, of course, be found even further back than Geert Hofstede, especially in the phenomenology of Edmund Husserl (1859 – 1938) and his teaching about the layeredness of the being and the needs for phenomenological and eidetic reduction, which metaphorically speaking, can be interpreted as the process of unearthing layers of onion and putting them aside, in brackets.

In literature, however, the onion is both a new and an old topic. To peel away the layers of the soul to reach the core and get hold of the essence has always been an appealing idea to writers. From Homer’s verses about onion in the Iliad Book XI in which the onion put in a bronze bowl is mentioned as a tasty addition to drinking, to the controversial autobiography of the Nobel Prize winner Günter Grass entitled “Peeling the Onion” (Beim Häuten der Zwiebel, 2006), which starts with the period from the end of his childhood in Gdansk when World War II breaks out, and ends with the finishing of “The Tin Drum”, Grass’s first big success, who intentionally chooses the metaphor of peeling the onion in the process of baring

his soul.

The World War II ordeals are being revealed in a similar fashion in the multiply awarded documentary of Vadim Jendreyko entitled “The Woman with the Five Elephants” (Die Frau mit den 5 Elefanten, 2009), which tells the story of Svetlana Geier (1923), probably the best translator of Russian literature into German, who at an old age, from 1994 to 2006, begins translating the “five books”, the five major novels of Dostoevsky (“Crime and Punishment”, “The Idiot”, “Demons”, “The Brothers Karamazov”, and “The Adolescent”), bearing the moniker “the five elephants”. In this film, besides her reflection on the process of translating which is being compared to the uncovering of layers in order to get hold of the essence, Svetlana Geier’s journey to her native Ukraine is also documented; she is now aged 85 and goes back there for the first time since her persecution during World War II. Following this emotional return back to her youth, from the perspective of the grand old age, the quest for meaning at times of losing one’s ground and essence becomes immortalized. This is why when Geier is speaking we are witnesses to her ideas which bear resemblance to the verses of some of the greatest poets of our time: “The onion has no centre. When one cuts through an onion, one does not find a central point. The onion has a purpose. The purpose of an onion is the new onion. This is basically where the idea begins. In Dostoyevsky’s novels there is always a cadence, the story within the story that

is not directly associated with the plot, but which, like an onion within an onion, is in fact the core of the whole thing.”

This is where I made my first “intellectual” contact with the onion. As a jury member for the International Competition award at the International Documentary Film Festival MakeDox which has been held two years in a row in Skopje under the high and creative auspices of two ladies (Kirijana Nikoloska and Petra Seliškar), last year I had the honour to take part in the festival, and had the chance to see The Woman with the Five Elephants, among many other documentaries, and in the end to be directly involved in awarding the Grand Prix of the festival bearing the melodious and appealing name – Onion. And by way of this, I immersed myself in artistic gastronomy, and in my quest for a possible archeology of knowledge connected with the word onion I ended up in the field of poetry. It brings me great pleasure that I have discovered unexpected and strange worlds full of tears of sorrow, and tears of joy as well.

And because the initial impetus for this anthology of poetry was provided by Make Dox, it is only right that the final rounding off of the antology of tears and onion take place at this festival, as an additional off-programme to the world of moving images. Because for the McLuhan world of images and media, the Gutenberg world with its printed works seems rather obsolete. However, through

the gradual discovering of verses, new worlds of poetry unravelled, which was a great pleasure for me; I also had new encounters with old friends who helped me realize this small poetry book containing the gems of XX century poetry dedicated to the onion. The anthology starts with a poet from the second half of the XIX century without whom this selection would have been incomplete. Namely, it starts with the short, but infinitely subtle poem by Stéphane Mallarmé, and is followed by the poems of the XX century poets Carl Sandburg and William Carlos Williamson, then it takes a turn presenting the Nobel-winning poets, a poem by Pablo Neruda and the verses of Wislawa Szymborska, and then the world becomes desacralized though the verses about onion of the great poetesses Sylvia Plath and Carol Ann Duffy, and it ends with the tastes and smells of our town through my poem and the poem of our fellow citizen Ronit Bergman, who has moved from Israel to Macedonia where she lives, writes and creates poetry. We should also, of course, mention the verses of the well-known poetesses Adrian Leach, Erica Jong and Naomi Shihab Nye, who reveal somewhat different worlds related to the onion galaxy. Twelve poems from twelve apostles (male and female!) of the tears and the onion are more than enough for a small lacrimatory anthology!

I do not intend to hermeneutically interpret the poems which are part of this “Anthology of Tears”. I leave that to the readers and the critics, because I am familiar with the old Eastern story about a man who told beautiful stories, but

never interpreted them. And when someone would ask him why he did not do that, he simply replied: “Would you like it if the man you buy your fruits from eats the orange before your eyes and gives you the remaining orange rind?”

This is why I advise you to read and interpret the poems your own way, but eat onions (in the form of Irish onion rings as a snack you have with beer or in the form of “Ohrid chomlek” with wine from the Tikvesh region!) both by yourself and in company, because the best way to have food is when it is shared with the people around you. Ivan Djeparoski Translated by Lea Linin

Stéphane Mallarmé (1842-1898)

Le marchand d’ail et d’oignons

L’ennui d’aller en visite

Avec l’ail nous l’éloignons. L’élégie au pleur hésite

Peu si je fends des oignons.

Carl Sandburg (1878-1967)

Onion Days

Mrs. Gabrielle Giovannitti comes along Peoria Street every morning at nine o’clock

With kindling wood piled on top of her head, her eyes

looking straight ahead to find the way for her old feet.

Her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Pietro Giovannitti, whose

husband was killed in a tunnel explosion through the negligence of a fellow-servant,

Works ten hours a day, sometimes twelve, picking onions for Jasper on the Bowmanville road.

She takes a street car at half-past five in the morning, Mrs. Pietro Giovannitti does,

And gets back from Jasper’s with cash for her day’s

work, between nine and ten oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;clock at night.

Last week she got eight cents a box, Mrs. Pietro Giovannitti, picking onions for Jasper,

But this week Jasper dropped the pay to six cents a

box because so many women and girls were answering the ads in the Daily News.

Jasper belongs to an Episcopal church in Ravenswood and on certain Sundays

He enjoys chanting the Nicene creed with his daughters on each side of him joining their voices with his.

If the preacher repeats old sermons of a Sunday, Jasperâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s mind wanders to his 700-acre farm and how he can make it produce more efficiently

And sometimes he speculates on whether he could word an ad in the Daily News so it would bring more

women and girls out to his farm and reduce operating costs. 18

Mrs. Pietro Giovannitti is far from desperate about life; her joy is in a child she knows will arrive to her in three months.

And now while these are the pictures for today there are other pictures of the Giovannitti people I could give you for to-morrow,

And how some of them go to the county agent on winter mornings with their baskets for beans and cornmeal and molasses.

I listen to fellows saying hereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s good stuff for a novel or it might be worked up into a good play.

I say thereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s no dramatist living can put old Mrs.

Gabrielle Giovannitti into a play with that kindling

wood piled on top of her head coming along Peoria Street nine oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;clock in the morning.

William Carlos Williams (1883-1963)

To be hungry is to be great

The small, yellow grass-onion, spring’s first green, precursor

to Manhattan’s pavements, when plucked as it comes, in bunches, washed, split and fried in

a pan, though inclined to be a little slimy, if well cooked

and served hot on rye bread

is to beer a perfect appetizer — and the best part

of it is they grow everywhere. 20

Pablo Neruda (1904-1973)

Oda a la cebolla

Cebolla

tus hojas como espadas en el huerto,

pétalo a pétalo

mostrando tu desnuda transparencia,

luminosa redoma, se formó tu hermosura,

escamas de cristal te acrecentaron y en el secreto de la tierra

oscura se redondeó tu vientre de rocío. Bajo la tierra

fue el milagro

y cuando apareció

tu torpe tallo verde, y nacieron

la tierra acumuló su poderío

y como en Afrodita el mar remoto duplicó la magnolia

levantando sus senos, la tierra

así te hizo, cebolla,

clara como un planeta, y destinada a relucir,

constelación constante,

Pero al alcance

sobre

regada con aceite,

redonda rosa de agua, la mesa

de las pobres gentes. Generosa deshaces

tu globo de frescura en la consumación

ferviente de la olla, y el jirón de cristal

al calor encendido del aceite

se transforma en rizada pluma de oro. También recordaré cómo fecunda

tu influencia el amor de la ensalada y parece que el cielo contribuye dándote fina forma de granizo a celebrar tu claridad picada 22

sobre los hemisferios de un tomate.

de las manos del pueblo, espolvoreada

con un poco de sal, matas el hambre

del jornalero en el duro camino. Estrella de los pobres, hada madrina

envuelta en delicado

papel, sales del suelo, eterna, intacta, pura

como semilla de astro, y al cortarte

el cuchillo en la cocina sube la única lágrima sin pena.

Nos hiciste llorar sin afligirnos.

Yo cuanto existe celebré, cebolla,

pero para mĂ eres

mĂĄs hermosa que un ave de plumas cegadoras, eres para mis ojos

globo celeste, copa de platino, baile inmĂłvil

de anĂŠmona nevada

y vive la fragancia de la tierra en tu naturaleza cristalina.

Wisława Szymborska (1923-2012)

Cebula

Co innego cebula.

W nas obczyzna i dzikość

Jest sobą na wskroś cebula,

inferno w nas interny,

Ona nie ma wnętrzności.

do stopnia cebuliczności. Cebulasta na zewnątrz, cebulowa do rdzenia,

mogłaby wejrzeć w siebie cebula bez przerażenia.

ledwie skórą przykryta, anatomia gwałtowna, a w cebuli cebula,

nie pokrętne jelita.

Ona wielekroć naga,

do głębi itympodobna.

Byt niesprzeczny cebula,

Cebula, to ja rozumiem:

W jednej po prostu druga,

Sam się aureolami

udany cebula twór.

w większej mniejsza zawarta, a w następnej kolejna, czyli trzecia i czwarta. Dośrodkowa fuga.

Echo złożone w chór.

najnadobniejszy brzuch świata. na własną chwałę oplata.

W nas - tłuszcze, nerwy, żyły, śluzy i sekretności.

I jest nam odmówiony

idiotyzm doskonałości.

Adrienne Rich (1929)

Peeling Onion

Only to have a grief

equal to all these tears! Thereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s not a sob in my chest. Dry-hearted as Peer Gynt I pare away, no hero, merely a cook.

Crying was labor, once when Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d good cause. 26

Walking, I felt my eyes like wounds raw in my head,

so postal-clerks, I though, must stare.

A dog’s look, a cat’s, burnt to my brain— yet all that stayed

stuffed in my lungs like smog. These old tears in the chopping-bowl.

Sylvia Plath (1932-1963)

Cut For Susan O’Neill Roe

What a thrill —

Little pilgrim,

The top quite gone

Your turkey wattle

My thumb instead of an onion. Except for a sort of hinge

Carpet rolls

Of skin,

Straight from the heart.

Dead white.

Clutching my bottle

A flap like a hat, Then that red plush.

The Indian’s axed your scalp.

I step on it,

Of pink fizz. A celebration, this is. Out of a gap

A million soldiers run, Redcoats, every one.

Whose side are they on? O my

Homunculus, I am ill.

I have taken a pill to kill The thin

The stain on your

Gauze Ku Klux Klan Babushka

Darkens and tarnishes and when The balled

Pulp of your heart

Confronts its small Mill of silence

Papery feeling.

How you jump â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

Kamikaze man â&#x20AC;&#x201D;

Dirty girl,

Saboteur,

Trepanned veteran, Thumb stump. 31

Erica Jong (1942)

Fruits & Vegetables

Excerpt: I am thinking of the onion again, with its two O mouths,

like the gaping holes in nobody. Of the outer skin, pinkish brown, peeled to reveal a greenish sphere, bald as a dead planet, glib as glass, & an odor almost animal. I consider its ability to draw tears, its capacity for self-scrutiny,

flaying itself away, layer on layer, in search of its heart which is simply another region of skin, but deeper &

greener. I remember Peer Gynt; I consider its sometimes double heart. Then I think of despair when the onion 32

searches its soul & finds only its various skins; & I think

of the dried tuft of roots leading nowhere & the parched umbilicus, lopped off in the garden. Not self-righteous

like the proletarian potato, nor a siren like the apple. No show-off like the banana. But a modest, self-effacing

vegetable, questioning, introspective, peeling itself away, or merely radiating halos like lake ripples. I consider it

the eternal outsider, the middle child, the sad analysand

of the vegetable kingdom. Glorified only in France (otherwise silent sustainer of soups & stews), unloved for itself alone-no wonder it draws our tears! Then I think again how the outer peel resembles paper, how soul & skin merge into one, how each peeling strips bare a heart which in turn turns skin...

Naomi Shihab Nye (1952)

The Traveling Onion

When I think how far the onion has traveled

just to enter my stew today, I could kneel and praise all small forgotten miracles,

crackly paper peeling on the drainboard, pearly layers in smooth agreement, the way knife enters onion

and onion falls apart on the chopping block, a history revealed.

And I would never scold the onion

for causing tears.

It is right that tears fall

for something small and forgotten. How at meal, we sit to eat,

commenting on texture of meat or herbal aroma but never on the translucence of onion, now limp, now divided,

or its traditionally honorable career: For the sake of others, disappear.

from Words Under the Words 35

Carol Ann Duffy (1955)

Valentine

Not a red rose or a satin heart.

a wobbling photo of grief.

I give you an onion.

I am trying to be truthful.

It promises light

Not a cute card or a kissogram.

It is a moon wrapped in brown paper. like the careful undressing of love. Here.

It will blind you with tears like a lover.

It will make your reflection 36

I give you an onion.

Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips, possessive and faithful as we are,

for as long as we are.

Take it.

Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding-ring, if you like. Lethal.

Its scent will cling to your fingers, cling to your knife.

Ivan Djeparoski (1958)

The Metaphysics of the Onion

From a cosmological point of view,

From a Pythagorean point of view,

Planetary rings

like the beans, the onion contains

Although it has countless

The onion has no black holes.

the secret proportion within.

From an anthropological point of view

From a Sophist point of view

found on the tables both of

to be a tasty olive even,

The onion is food

the rich and the poor.

Although it isnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t a sacred plant

The onion can be proven

if somebody pays for that.

From a geographical point of view,

From an erotological point of view

the perfect ovalness

a son of Porus and Penia,

Had Eratosthenes known of

of the onion, he wouldn’t have made the tiniest mistake when measuring the Earth’s circumference.

It’s as if the onion is

of the abundance and the scantiness that follow every single true love.

From a mineral point of view

From an East-eschatological point of view,

an uncut crystal

reincarnated as an onion whereas

The onion is like

with round shapes

resembling platinum wedding rings.

the onion desires to be

from a West-eschatological point of view, the onion, through tears and prayers offers us a strong salvation.

From a filmological point of view, the onion is amenable

to filming even a philosophical documentary about it.

And itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s not impossible,

somebody to have even introduced

an award at a summer film festival A big platinum onion!

Skopje â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Ohrid, 24. 06. 2011

Translated from Macedonian

by Elida Bahtijaroska

Ronit Bergman (1964)

The Ten Kilo Onion Sack

When I saw the sack of onions you brought from the market I thought Oh, just

how much are we going to cry this winter?

On the Authors

Stéphane Mallarmé (18 March, 1842, Paris — 9 Sept., 1898, Paris, Fr.) French poet, an originator (with Paul Verlaine) and a leader of the Symbolist movement in poetry. His work anticipated and inspired several revolutionary artistic schools of the early 20th century, such as Dadaism, Surrealism and Futurism. Mallarmé’s most well known poems are The afternoon of a Faun (1860), which inspired Debussy’s tone poem (1894) of the same name. Among his others works are Poésies (1887) and Hérodiade (1896). The work of Mallarmé has often been considered the best example of „pure poetry“. Carl Sandburg

(6 Jan., 1878, Galesburg, Ill., U.S. — 22 July, 1967, Flat Rock, N.C.) U.S. poet, historian, novelist, and folklorist. Sandburg tried many occupations and fought in the SpanishAmerican War before moving to Chicago in 1913, where he worked in journalism. His Whitmanesque free verse eulogizing American workers appeared in such volumes as Smoke and Steel (1920), The People, Yes (1936), The American Songbag (1927) and New American Songbag (1950). His other works include Abraham Lincoln: The Prairie Years (1926), Abraham Lincoln: The War Years (1939, Pulitzer Prize), and four children’s books, including Rootabaga Stories (1922).

William Carlos Williams (17 Sept., 1883, Rutherford, N.J., U.S.— 4 March, 1963, Rutherford) U.S. poet. Trained as a pediatrician, Williams wrote poetry and practiced medicine in his hometown. He is noted for making the ordinary appear extraordinary as in the fresh and direct impressions of the sensuous world expressed in Spring and All (1923). Paterson (1946–58), a five-part long poem, evokes a complex vision of modern American life. In 1963 he was awarded the Pulitzer Prize in poetry for Pictures from Brueghel (1962). His numerous prose works include essays, a trilogy of novels, short stories and autobiography.

Pablo Neruda (12 July 1904, Parral, Chile — 23 September, 1973, Santiago) Chilean poet, diplomat, and politician who was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1971. He was perhaps the most important Latin American poet of the 20th century. His second book, Veinte poemas de amor y una canción desesperada (1924) (Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair), was inspired by an unhappy love affair. It became an instant success and is still one of Neruda’s most popular books. One of his major works, Odas elementales (Elemental Odes), was published in 1954. Its verse was written in a new poetic style — simple, direct, precise, and humorous — and it contained escriptions of everyday objects, situations, and beings (e.g., “Ode to the Onion” and “Ode to the Cat”). 20 books of his appeared between 1958 and his death in 1973, and 8 more were published posthumously.

Wisława Szymborska (2 July 1923, Kornik, Poland – 1 February 2012, Krakow) was a Polish poet, essayist, translator and recipient of the 1996 Nobel Prize in Literature. She started writing poetry at the age of four and was described as the “Mozart of Poetry”. Szymborska was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature “for poetry that with ironic precision allows the historical and biological context to come to light in fragments of human reality”. Her work has been translated into many European languages including Macedonian, as well as into Arabic, Hebrew, Japanese and Chinese. Her reputation rests on a relatively small body of work, fewer than 250 poems. When asked why she had published so few poems, she said: “I have a trash can in my home”.

Adrienne Rich

(16 May 1929, Baltimore, Md., U.S.) U.S. poet and critic. She was a student at Radcliffe College when her poems were chosen for publication in the Yale Younger Poets series; the resulting volume, A Change of World (1951), reflected her formal mastery. Her subsequent work traces a transformation from well-crafted but imitative poetry to a highly personal and powerful style. Her increasing commitment to the women’s movement and feminist aesthetic influenced much of her work. Among her collections are Diving into the Wreck (1973, National Book Award) and The Dream of a Common Language (1978).

Sylvia Plath (27 October 1932, Boston, MA, U.S. – 11 February 1963, London, GB) American poet, novelist and short story writer. Born in Massachusetts, she studied at Smith College and Newnham College, Cambridge before receiving acclaim as a professional poet and writer. She married fellow poet Ted Hughes in 1956 and they lived together first in the United States and then England, having two children together: Frida and Nicholas. Following a long struggle with depression and a marital separation, Plath committed suicide in 1963. Plath is credited with advancing the genre of confessional poetry and is best known for her two published collections: The Collosus and Other Poems and Ariel. In 1982, she became the first poet to win a Pulitzer Prize posthumously, for The Collected Poems. She also wrote The Bell Jarr, a semi-autobiographical novel published shortly before her death. Erica Jong (née Mann, March 26, 1942, New York City, New York) is an American author and teacher best known for her fiction and poetry. She has published 20 books, including eight novels, six volumes of poetry, six books of non-fiction and numerous articles in magazines and newspapers. In her groundbreaking first novel, Fear of Flying (18 million in print around the world), she introduced Isadora Wing, who also plays a central part in three subsequent novels. Erica Jong was honored with the United Nations Award for Excellence in Literature. In France, she received the Deauville Award for Literary Excellence and in Italy, she received the Sigmund Freud Award for Literature.

Naomi Shihab Nye (12 March, 1952, St Lois, Missouri, U.S.) is a poet and novelist. She was born to a Palestinian father and American mother. Although she regards herself as a “wandering poet”, she refers to San Antonio as her home. Her first collection of poems, Different Ways to Pray: Poems (1980), explored the theme of similarities and differences between cultures, which would become one of her lifelong areas of focus. Nye has edited many anthologies of poems, for audiences both young and old. She has won many awards and fellowships, among them four Pushcart Prizes and the Paterson Poetry Prize.

Carol Ann Duffy

(23 December 1955, Glasgow, Scotland) is a Scottish poet and playwright. She is Professor of Contemporary Poetry at the Manchester Metropolitan University, and was appointed Britain’s poet laureate in May 2009. She is the first woman, the first Scot, and the first openly gay person to hold the position. Her collections include Standing Female Nude (1985), winner of a Scottish Arts Council Award, Mean Time (1993), which won the Whitbread Poetry Award and Rapture (2005), winner of the T.S.Eliot Prize Her poems address issues such as oppression, gender, and violence, in an accessible language that has made them popular in schools.

Ivan Djeparoski (9 May 1958, Skopje, Macedonia) is a poet, philosopher and translator. He is an author of twelve books in the field of aesthetics and of five poetry books, for which he was awarded the “Mlad Borec Prize” (1984), “Dimitar Mitrev Prize” (1993) and “Paradigm Praise” (2009). He works at the Faculty of Philosophy in Skopje as a professor in “Aesthetics”. He was Head of the Institute of Philosophy (2004-2009) and secretary of Macedonian P.E.N. Centre (1999-2001; 2009- ). He was granted the “Grigor Prlicev Award” (1993) for a poetic translation. His poetry and some of his essays are translated into several languages. Poetry books: Pictures at an Exhibition, 1989; Eclogues, 1992; Poems, 1998; Will for Thought, 2008; The Abduction of Europe, 2012.

Ronit Bergman (1964, Haifa, Israel) is a multidisciplinary artist – primarily a musician, but also a poetess and an actress. She currently lives in Macedonia. Her poems have appeared in numerous journals and anthologies in Israel, Europe and USA. She has published three collections of poetry A Grave of Your Own (2007, Israel) , The Hair of My Heart (2011, Macedonia) and her new book Honey Lasso (2012, Macedonia), along with a new album - INDEED of her recent musical project Undone. Ronit Bergman has released 5 full length albums as well as several EPs and compilations with her musical projects (Plastic Venus, One of Us, and Undone) in Israel, England, and Macedonia.

Impressum Publisher: MakeDox

For the Publisher: Kiriana A. Nikoloska ÂŠ For the selection Ivan Djeparoski Editor: Ilindenka Petruseva

Creative Collaborators: Petra Seliskar, Brand Ferro Proofreaders: Suzana V. Spasovska

Graphic Design: Anastasija Popovska

Photos: Brand Ferro, Samir Karahasan Print: Sofija Print - Bogdanci Circulations: 500 52