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Black Sun Again

From what imagined kingdom, from what abundant grave
that shelters you in the evening and casts you out in the morning
do you come, oh black sun, and pour down with black rains
like a dire threat tolling for the world.

Beast eat beast, branch breaks branch.
Trunk beats trunk, root braids with root,
a falling star rends the sky with fire,
the earth wars with the sky, the dead with the living.

What is the imagined kingdom, that sepulchre of the wind
whence a three-headed demon ogles us greedily,
in this place of crime, a river with no head, no bed,
in this black soil, this field of human palm.

What is that land that we name after us
with a name copied from the walls of abysses and ridges,
o black sun, black summer, black winter,
here we are both covered with sun-scorched leaves.

Aco Šopov, Reader of Ashes (Гледач во пепелта), 1970
Translated by Zoran Ančevski and Dragi Mihajlovski