Browse Tagged “Grief and Remembrance” from the Canadian Macedonian Heritage Society archive, library and community collections.
The Last Breath of a Guerrilla Fighter Before dawn on Holy Wednesday, fighting in the battle of Lia, they had spoken to him of freedom. His body collapsed upon the earth, yet he no longer felt pain. His soul separated from the body, invisible, gazing from above. While stray bullets flew, they could no longer touch his soul. It was one of those futile days, like a little boat without oars. He saw ...
The bell rings in celebration, Autumn of forty-nine. The war has ended, But our village has grown smaller. Many children were killed, Others disappeared. Houses abandoned, Houses in ruins. Children lost their mothers, They lost their companions; Countless untouched bodies Lie in the mountains and hills. We returned back to the village, To our beautiful neighbourhoods, To sleep again in our homes, ...
One September morning, The day was bright with sunshine. The village was full of people, Just as on every day. All the men gathered At Mishle’s corner, They were not joking much — Great anxiety weighed on them. Grandfather Mitos sat Beneath his window, Rejoicing with fellow villagers, Together with his grandson. The little sheep were grazing Along the mountainside; Their bells could be heard Like ...
Four friends from the village, Met together at “Margareta,” And made a household of their own, Where ten men lived together at a time. For breakfast, they told us Cornflakes were the thing to eat. So we went and bought some, Certain we would dine properly. A giant box we carried home, Covered with many letters; It even had red little spots — They looked like strawberries. We poured in plenty of ...
A body without a soul Can no longer offer good. When the final breath is drawn, It can no longer carry out evil. The dreams of a little child Have now been left behind. Look now to your survival— And leave something kind. One gentle word— You will treasure it for years. But cruel words spoken You will remember for eternity. The bullet that you hear Is not the one that kills you. The bullet that ...
A stone slab appeared below, there in the yard one day. The two looked at each other slyly— and one grabbed the iron bar right away. One lifted it with the crowbar, the other struck with the heavy tool. The Albanians watched and wondered: “What are these two looking for here, fools?” They searched for hidden gold coins to give to their children and grandchildren dear. But instead of gold beneath ...
Where are you going, my sorrowed one, through these narrow alleyways? Why are you a stranger, my exiled one, with tears upon your face? Where have you been so long, that you had forgotten us— to see the green mountain again, to drink water from the spring? To take a walk through the village, to see your kin once more— where have you been so long? What was it that kept you away before? As he ...
Her three sons left for foreign lands. One went off to Canada, another to Australia, and the third, the youngest, went to Germany. The years were difficult in their beautiful homeland. You leave your place behind when you have no hope. The brothers were separated, and the little cousins too. Their mother was left alone, wandering through the fields. With a pair of borrowed oxen she worked the ...
When a villager dies— a friend, a parent, or a brother— then we begin to think deeply: why do we quarrel, my friends? The phone rings early— who could it be, who could it be now? The message is a sorrowful one: so-and-so has died today. The news keeps spreading until everyone has heard— another villager is gone from this city. Young and old gather together in the biting cold, to stand before the ...
Death came down from above before the night had fallen. He had no tail—only wings, like a little angel. I said to him, please, I still have much to do— do me this one favour, I do not want to die yet. “Death,” he told me, “of the body is but another beginning for your soul. The two of us will go elsewhere— there lies your eternal life.” I insisted, begged for a delay, to remain a little longer. ...
