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World of Haiku: Poets of Bosnia & Herzegovina/Estonia/Macedonia

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Author: Nikola Madzirov
a broken button
in a garden of roses
the thread’s on the thorn
Author: Dimitar Argakiev
a gentle touch
maybe it’s a memory
or a butterfly
Author: Iskra Doneva
a man with a rod
the fish is in the river
waiting for break fast
Author: Smajil Drumišević
a prayer in a Holy grove
so as to the oak,
who are these people?
Author: Toni Pavleski
a sketch of a wood stove
drawn in a raging snowstorm
by an orphan child.
Author: Smajil Drumišević
an innocent beauty
everywhere—žepa is a tear
take your shoes off
Author: Iskra Doneva
black dust is falling
a matchstick which is half burned
between the fingers
Author: Smajil Drumišević
Bosnia a country
of man, stone and dreams
a divine omen
Author: H. Petreski
do not pour water
into the fire, the dust
will burst in your eyes
Author: Andres Ehin
Fir-trees are high,
but drown nevertheless
into birds’ song.
Author: Vladimir Martinovski
how soft they appear
the needles of the pine tree
after the first snow.
Author: Petko Dabeski
I’m laying long
lying with my eyes open
looking into myself
Author: Dimitar Argakiev
I wasn’t brave
to go out into my yard
there was a dove.
Author: Toni Pavleski
leap over a thorn
running away from the pain
I broke a flower
Author: Alexandar Prokopiev
my underpanties
are washing in a whirlwind
while I’m watching still.
Author: Smajil Drumišević
Summer in Prague,
suddenly I noticed
an Arabian rose
Author: Smajil Drumišević
the dawn of honey
and an ancient call—beware,
innocent, write down everything
Author: Andres Ehin
The day is nightblind.
Only a raindrop glows
on the dark windowglass.
Author: Petko Dabeski
the knee is glowing
on the bare knee the pollen
has gently fallen
Author: Aleksandar Popovski
the nests are so high
on the stone of resistance
thunders are nesting
Author: Alexandar Prokopiev
the rooster is here
just in time for the lunch time
the lunch time of ours
Author: H. Petreski
the songs I’ve burned
are the songs that have made the best
distance from myself
Author: Nikola Madzirov
the television
has broken down – inside the screen
we see our faces
Author: Smajil Drumišević
the wild rose
blooms, smells discreetly and stings
it grows where it wants
Author: Aleksandar Popovski
there are kind of days
when the silence is speaking
the rest is silent
Author: Smajil Drumišević
tombstones moved to the
museum—yet they are
all our kings!
Author: Smajil Drumišević
villains, you should know
Hamid is waiting for you – shaheed
on eternal guard
Author: Vladimir Martinovski
we swim on our backs
us – in the ocean
the cloud – in the sky.
Author: Andres Ehin
You, the ice-hole in limestone quarry,
reflect today
the cold sun in its entirety.
Author: Smajil Drumišević
you, the traveller, a friend
do you feel the fragrance of our
Bosnian soul?
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