- The Sun Sleeps in Your Womb
The orchard of uncertaintythat we plantedyields its fruit by night,when the sun sleeps in your wombawaiting my seed.
We know nothing of the mineralsand the buried toys,nor of the bumblebeesthat carry pollenbetween two warring states.
The earth smells of forgotten dampand the footprints of our childhoodare coveredby the wheel-marks of a cart.
From here our innocence sets outand moves to the bright-lit citiesthat exist only in atlasesand in the skywhen there is no moon. [End Page 78]
Nikola Madzirov was born in a family of Balkan Wars refugees in Macedonia. His award-winning poetry has been translated into thirty languages and published in collections and anthologies in the United States, Europe, and Asia. His most recent poetry collection is Remnants of Another Age (BOA Editions).