LA ÚNICA VERDAD (NIKOLA MADZIROV: "SOY UN MOLINO QUE MIRA HACIA EL SOL" (16-09-2024))

LA ÚNICA VERDAD (NIKOLA MADZIROV) 

Toda la comunidad puede gritar porque ha nacido un hombre que no actuará como ella actúa, quien no se conformará porque la conformidad es la muerte para él-esta es su constitución.Ellos no saben nada de su caso; son locos cuando pretenden aconsejarlo.El hombre con daimon sabe lo que persigue, ningún otro lo sabe por él.Y solo él sabe cuando algo se interpone entre él y su objeto.Con el transcurso de las generaciones, sin embargo, los hombres te disculparán por no seguirles, si consigues lo bastante para persistir en tu propio camino. 

Henry David Thoreau (Traducción Guillermo Ruiz) 

griego: δαίμων daimon 'espíritu, genio' 

 (PRIMERA VEZ AQUÍ EL 20 DE DICIEMBRE DE 2006)

 

(Fotografía de TAJ, Campo de Criptana)

 

LA ÚNICA VERDAD

Te diré una cosa cuando cada sacerdote

renuncie a las verdades que fueron heredadas,

quiero pasar al lado de todas esas fuentes

a las que solo lanzamos la mera gota del

mar que llevamos dentro.

Quiero no recordar lo que no hemos olvidado.

arrojar una piedra en el pozo de la ausencia

y escuchar cómo suena a agua y oscuridad,

quiero llenar todos los nidos abandonados

con ropa que ha quedado demasiado pequeña

para nuestros cuerpos y deseos tan crecidos.

Yo quiero crecer como si fuese mala hierba

que abrazará los escombros de nuestras infancias,

ser uno con el hielo, el agua, vapor, vacío...

Quedarme donde el día 

vuelve a su permanencia,

allí donde las sombras no delatan

lo profundo de los ríos y abismos,

pues no vivo en los planes

de división de las calles y cielos

ni aparezco entre los sueños tampoco

de los líderes y guardianes nocturnos.

Soy un molino que mira hacia el sol.

(NIKOLA MADZIROV, LA ÚNICA VERDAD (EN EL LIBRO "LO QUE DIJIMOS NOS PERSIGUE". Traducción de Yolanda Castaño y Marija Petrovska)

 

Cada día de nuevo

reconstruimos el mundo

...

Llevo mucho tiempo sin pertenecer a nadie

cual moneda caída al borde de un icono

...

La historia es la primera frontera que tengo que cruzar,

espero la voz que se distingue de la armonía obediente

y que ha de contar lo alejado que estoy

...

Cada día mi hogar

cambia secretamente bajo la tienda de campaña del mundo,

sólo la infancia es como la miel

que no admite huellas ajenas a sí misma

 NIKOLA MADZIROV

Nikola Madzirov (poeta, ensayista, traductor) nació en 1973 en Strumica, Macedonia. Su poesía ha sido traducida a unos veinte idiomas y publicada en selecciones y antologías en Macedonia y en el extranjero. Su más reciente poemario, Piedra Trasladada (2007) ganó el premio de poesía europea "Hubert Burda", y el más prestigioso premio macedonio de poesía "Los Hermanos Miladinovci". Por su colección Encerrados en la ciudad (1999), recibió el premio al mejor libro de debutante "Palabra de estudiante", y por su libro En alguna parte en ninguna parte ganó el premio "Aco Karamanov"

Lectura de poemas en el 21° Festival Internacional de Poesía de Medellín, en el Teatro Ateneo Porfirio Barba Jacob, el 8 de julio de 2011

 

 

Nikola Madzirov: International Poets in Conversation

mayo 18, 2012

(...)

ILYA KAMINSKY:

It seems to me, in your tradition, in your country, in your language, oral tradition is still very very present. Even in your names and name of somebody who doesn't have a common Madzirov, who is translated into many, many languages. And yet history is very present, even though your poems try to resist it in some ways as much as possible. And yet, in one of the interviews you said earlier, "My initiation into the world of the responsible started with the war that did not belong to me, but was coming my way, war that did not belong to me, but was coming my way." Now, you were 18 years old when you first saw war. How did you often write in?How did you, how did other poets, you know, in former Yugoslavia have been influenced by war? By conflict?

(...) 

ILYA KAMINSKY:
What year did the war began for you?

NIKOLA MADZIROV:

 In 1991, when also Republic of Macedonia became independent when communism disappeared from the map of this region. So there were many, many moments that came at the same time. Also, the norms of moral norms, ethics, aesthetics, they they were all ruined at the same moment. Everything disappeared and we found ourselves alone, you know, in this cut forest and non protected by by the wind of the of the new time.

(...)

ILYA KAMINSKY: Are there any poems that you could perhaps read for us that are relevant for you from that time period or from poets of that time period? 

NIKOLA MADZIROV: Yes. There for example, Izet Sarajilit wrote magnificent serial of those war poems, especially while he was hitting under the ground. He was alive, but more than two meters under the ground. And from this position he wrote really magnificent poems.

 ILYA KAMINSKY: So he wrote poems while sitting under the ground? NIKOLA MADZIROV: Yes. One of them was 'The Theory of Distance'. And I would read you a few lines in translation by Irinazov. 

"I'm one of those who believe that Monday should be discussed on Monday. Doing so on Tuesday might be doing too late. It is hard, of course, in a cellar with grenades whistling above your head to write poems. The only thing harder than that would be not to write them."

 

(...)

So, let's say that my words, my my lines, my memories are not covers of reality, but let's say rediscovering the doors of of something beyond reality.

Someone called it metaphysics, someone called the sacred. Someone says, this is very profound, but I want everything to be like a home, one personal home, like a stepping the threshold, you know. I was also impressed when I was a kid, seeing an old lady when she was coming out from church once. And usually people come out from church when they turn with their back. So they they have always to have face in front of the church. So it's not good if you turn your your back towards the church. So. So I saw her once when she was crossing yeah, and praying in exactly on the threshold on the church. And it was just a moment that you don't know whether she is going inside or she goes outside from the church. So this picture remained in, in, in myself. And I never use it as a line, of course, because it was too sacred for me. It was to to precious it, but it just remained.

'Shadows Pass us By.' 

"We'll meet one day like a paper boat and a watermelon that's been cooling in the river. The anxiety of the world will be with us. Our palms will eclipse the sun and we will approach each other holding lanterns. One day the wind won't change direction. The birds will send away leaves in their shoes on the doorstep. The wolves will come after our innocence. The butterflies will leave their dust on our cheeks. An old woman will tell stories about us in the waiting room every morning. Even what I am saying has been said already. We are waiting for the wind like two flags on the border. We are waiting for the wind like two flags on the border. One day, every shadow will pass us by." 

 'Many Things Happened.' 

"Many things happened while the earth was spinning on God's finger. Wires release themselves from pylons and now they connect one love to another. Ocean drops deposited themselves eagerly onto cave walls. Flowers separated from minerals and set off following the scent.

From the back pocket pieces of paper started flying all over our airy room. Irrelevant things with which we would never do unless they were written down."