While I was juggling with my red grains In condition full of panic You came juggling with jour white grains And while this passionate game was going on We mixsed up the granes All of a suden You said to me to take care You must not los any grains Because you need them all The white ones for living The red ones for loving me
This mirror is the smoothest shaved chek on which the beard isn't growing any more Be carful it can make you sad when you stand in front of it
He was born in Radovis and graduated Macedonian language and literature at the Faculty of filology in Skopje, in 1986. A member of the Macedonian Writers’ Association since 1998 and a member of the association’s Presidency since 2008. He writes poetry, plays and essays and until now has published these books : -“ What did Charlie C see opposite “ , in 1991, an edition of “ ALFA” , awarded as the best book at the anonymous contest of the Macedonian Literature Youth.
The same year, this book was also awarded as the best debut , that was published in the period between the previous Struga Poetry Evenings and the next one , winning the award “ Studentski zbor” / Student’s word /.
His poetry book “ Cyclone eye” was edited in 1995 by the publishing house “ Fenix” in Skopje.
His poetry book “ Stop Charlie” was published in 2002 , in the edition “ Karamanov” of the Culture Centre “ Aco Karamanov” from Radovis.
The next poetry book “ The beat “ was published in 2006 in the publishing house “ Dialoque” from Skopje. This book was contesting for the prestigious award “Aco Sopov” in 2006.
The publiser “Gurga” edited his “ Glass riddle” , also a poetry book in 2008.
At the moment he is working on his last book called “ Chaving a baloon”.
Borce Panov is also an author of the following plays: - “ The fifth calendar time “ - “ The double of the town” - “At the middle of the street, a dead end “ - “ Homo Sapunens” - “ Catch the sleep walker” - “ Devided by his own nose” - “Summer cinema” .
Borce Panov is empoyed as senior administrator for educational and cultural matters in the Municipality of Radovis , and he is also an artistic coordinator for the International Poetry Event known as “Karamanovs’ Meetings” , that have been held for 45 years in Radovis in honor of the poet and hero Aco Karamanov.
The Angel’s Quill
All night I am chasing one square of light In which I am traveling like persistently fleeing dream Into compartment in front of checker’s nightfall While morning is arranging my crystals of sparking With scaling down Sun in fine glittering words And returning me at the beginning of traveling With all of that which leads into uneasiness Like I was never born Like I died in some time before than it was my time To return into this moment And I am stranger again to what I dreamt of Without my lived-in past In the kaleidoscope of this present moment Which is shifting darkness between crystals Opening in front of me and closing behind you While postponing my awakening And again I am following the square of light And God is gloomy at the end of Heaven Like amoeba- star which gathers mind Thousands of years from the beginning of dreaming And I know In handkerchief of wind he is returning ashes back to me again That I have to sorrow like a cry at birth And that I have to remember an angel Which left me like an orphan in the threshold of life In beehive full of flickering words And with one little feather pulled out from the wing at farewell With only one word I am writing my soul once again
The same as that Czar's captive Sentenced To thirst and to hunger Rare Suckles only Breast milk Of young woman who no longer breastfeed her infant And Secretly Fed by jailers With one word only To hang In life With a word To pull One moment With a moment a day And night From tomorrow and over tomorrow A whole time All the time A moment Just one That moment Only to you To go west To pop Until you return And begin to talk The thousand and one words With your And with my body My migrant soul
Thorny Glagolitic Chant
Love death truly Because she has her desires too Like an arrow Traveling at day And hitting At night Suddenly You wrote this to me And like a thunderbolt enlightened My mind that night When you said That some time ago I spit into snake's mouth too Because of the dark brushwood In me chanted in glagolitic with a thorns I accepted to my self Then one more time That On the tightened nerve I was pacing very often Between life And death And my days without love I wanted To be shorter For forgiveness I asked you And for Not to ask of me To love her Whose Only wish is To ask of us To leave too early From this life Without love.
Letter Of Fortune
A long ago I'm patiently lurking the shadows At the end, I'm closing them in white envelopes always again asking myself is this writing poetry too One day I received a letter which said that I was fortunate to be chosen and that I will, If I don't disrupt circle, experience great happiness Then I remembered again that each day I'm opening letters and persistently reading their whiteness That's why I please, Do not interrupt circle when you'll get this letter with no address * What did Charlie C. saw from the upside down?
There comes Charlie winded like a toy -Idiot, he is whispering to me and turns sharply down, hanged onto his long foot to the wire, he leaks my blood thru wire from the nerve fiber fast with his thumbs he lift up,one by one, the tails of his little tailcoat becomes a dot between the dots ... What did Charlie C. saw from the upside down ? We ate fish - he was carefully sucked the bones of the shoe I sucked the tacks of the sheat-fish what remained we throw into the garbage cans that hop from the orgasm-m-m-m-m-m of the cats -Faster, Charlie,faster a volcano is turns into typhoon (you do not see it) You dancing yours foot is stuck with the chewing gum on the floor, now it is clear that he is a giant from a half upward and he shoot aaah, he shoot us from a distance! Faster Charlie, move away, tear off! What?! You're in love. Terrible! You're in love Charlie the head of your soul is outside of the skull A black rock, a sad one now floating inside my head Charlie Typewriter types my heart a sheet is hopelessly white, although power failure ... Although power failure I know that deep through the whiteness I feel My blood is close to the other side and it's time to wake up, although I do not know where ... You ... you might have laughed from the upside down Charlie? *