Makedonijo, vecna Makedonijo

Slowly,
I must begin 
to say goodbye to you. 

Strong winds of your streets,
the sun burning high in the sky, 
they allow me to find
a quiet gratitude inside me. 

Gratitude for your people, 
whose hospitality is second to none, 
and which I came to love deeply.

Gratitude for Romani songs, 
and melody from the towers of mosques, 
that woke me up from too short dreams.   

Good, caring Mother,
during the months
I spent at the foot of your mountains, 
I grew
so beautifully… 

Since the first day
I opened my eyes here, 
you strongly hugged me 
and explained
the colours of your landscapes 
and concerns. 

Like a good mother,
you whispered to me
the truth of your soul.

Karolina Kubera