Artsy stuff here. Just wrote this while brewing some tea, with the thought of macedonian food and literature on my mind.
In the shallow village
where the sodium light of the sun shone wanly,
three children danced in the street
and proclaimed to the window panes and gutters:
"Shall we,
Oh shall we,
sing the viper song?"
Sang the first,
"I am small-tempered,
wroth but limber.
Send me waves and ice
and submerge me with
petty revelries."
And the second replied,
"Too large am I for the world,
and too great are its follies.
Come! Away! When time is done,
The world shall breathe again."
A small lad, the third
could not remember his lines
and so I finished the song:
"Lift me up, there above
shall we find not an infinity,
nor a firmament, nor any
banquet of beggar's charm.
Looking down on the basket
of all, I see what is mine
is yet to come."
Startled, the children ran.
