{"id":102617,"date":"2024-08-11T05:06:28","date_gmt":"2024-08-11T03:06:28","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.acosopov.com\/reading-room\/poetry-shelf\/%d0%be%d0%b1%d0%b8%d1%87%d0%bd%d0%b0-%d1%83%d0%bb%d0%b8%d1%86%d0%b0\/"},"modified":"2026-01-13T22:44:51","modified_gmt":"2026-01-13T21:44:51","slug":"an-ordinary-street","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.acosopov.com\/en\/reading-room\/poetry-shelf\/an-ordinary-street\/","title":{"rendered":"An Ordinary Street"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

\n\t\t\tAn Ordinary Street\t<\/h1>\n\tThere are no tall buildings on my street,
\nno lindens, no olives, no green locusts.
\nAt times it seems like a withered tree,
\nwhere migratory birds alight by chance.\nMy street is small and has no name,
\nwith ordinary joys and ordinary cares.
\nWere its eyes not scorched by the hot sun,
\nnothing could bring it close to the world.\nNo one but me walks down my street,
\nand at evening, once the silence is sleeping,
\nonly then it awakes, alarmed and beguiled,
\nbeguiled by the voice of the distance.\n\tAco \u0160opov<\/a>, Merge with the Silence<\/a>, 1955
\nTranslated from the Macedonian by Christina E. Kramer and Rawley Grau, The Long Coming of the Fire<\/em><\/a>, Dallas, Deep Vellum, 2023.\n\t

Jasmina \u0160opova, the poet’s daughter, recalls some moments from her life and reads “An Ordinary Street” (in Macedonian)<\/p>\n\t\t