KLETNIKOV, Eftim
Eftim Kletnikov, bom in 1946 in Negrevo, Macedonia, is a poet, critic, essayist, transla-tor and anthology compiler. His poetry collections include Blue Whirlpool, 1977, Lights and Tbvilights, 1978, The Eye of the Dark One, 1980, Poems for Ognen, 1984, Roe and Wing, 1984, Voices, 1987, Three-eyed, 1989, Instants, 1992, A Man and a Woman Facing the Starš, 1994, Troy, 1996, The Cosmic Draught, 1998. He lives and works in Skopje.
Eftim Kletnikov, roden 1946. godine u Negrevu u Makedoniji, pjesnik, esejist, prevodilac i antologičar. Diplomirao na Filozofskom fakultetu u Skoplju. Pjesničke zbirke: Moder vir (Modri vir, 1977), Zrači i samraci (Zrači i sumraci, 1978), Okoto na Temiot (Oko Tamnog, 1980), Pesni za Ognen (Pjesme o Ognenu, 1984), Iskra i krilo (1984), Glasovi (1987), Triok (Trook, 1989), Magnovenija (1992), Maž i žena so lice sproti zvezdite (Muz i žena okrenuti licem zvijezdama (1994), Troja (1996), Tojprovev kosmički (Kozmieki propuh, 1998). Živi i radi u Skoplju.
Sodobnost 2001 I 214
EFTIM KLETNIKOV
The threshold and the
I stili recall
the crown of the starš
coming into leaf over Negrevo.
A golden sunbeam
binding it
to the village's foundation.
Oh my God how far has it gone and how it shines,
the threshold of our house.
To cross it
the angel ušes no step but his own voice
And aftenvards Sne hears
the rustling of his wings
bringing the dish
into the empty house
unwitnessed,
news of the awful glare
that hurts.
Sodobnost 2001 I 215
Eftim   Kletnikov
Bell
(Archaelogical sketch ofStobi)
What if it seems to be full of itself, when it doesn't ring but is silent as a fish?
But in spite of that
I am afraid
of being touched
by the piled ur-echo
of a piece
of broken jugs
of the peacock's multi-coloured tail
on the mosaic of the king's palače,
of being led astray
like a whirlpool
accidentally
in this instant
that vanishes
before ever it is born
So
through the centuries.
Cry
Even before we kindled the first fire
the wound was opaque
and existence trembled before the Unknown.
But when the first spark was struck something emerged from out the cave, something huge and horrendous:
Acry!
The forest glowed right to its heart
Sodobnost 2001 I 216
Eftim   Kletnikov
and only then did we see
how the Beautiful Beast feeds on silence.
We stretched the bow
and to this day
keep the bowstring taut.
But far better now
to loose once more that primal cry
than fire an arrow.
Dark legend
On the mountain a grove in the grove a beast in the beast a heart in the heart a ruby in the ruby a black rose in the rose a kiss in the kiss a sorrow in the sorrow a spring over the spring the face of a youth drinking the moon that lies under the water in its depths. While the guilty hunter concealed in the creaking bush fashions an arrow from the grove's shadow. >
Translated by G. W. Reid and A. Taneski
Sodobnost 2001 I 217