North Macedonia
Leyla Şerif
North Macedonia

She was born in 1981 in Skopje in North Macedonia. She graduated from the Turkish Language and Literature Department of Philology Faculty of Saint Cyril and Methodius University in Skopje. She is currently pursuing her Master’s Degree at the Oriental Studies Department of Kalkandere University. She is a lecturer at the Turkish Language Teaching Department of Balkan University. She has been serving as the Editor-in-Chief of Köprü – Bridge magazine since 2005 (Köprü is the only magazine printed in Turkish within North Macedonia borders). She has produced and presented Youth Culture program at the Turkish Section of the North Macedonia State Television. Leyla Şerif Emin is a member of the North Macedonian Writers Union. In 2016 she published her essay book entitled “Üskübistan”. She has helped in organizing many Poetry Festivals realized in Skopje. She works at the Ministry of Transportation, the Republic of North Macedonia.

A bit of Poetry, a bit of September

I am exhausted but not hopeless
This uneasiness was all because of september
I have no idea how many size bigger was my struggles
Sooner or later I would have put on all of them next year
My friends being wounded in battlefronts
Whose bullet was it, and who was the shooter, all are unknown
The most difficult ones are my knives in my back for the sake of life.
Its perpetrator does not exist and shall not exist
I know it
I buried the faces in that darkness
Now realities take a look at a sun
That is also at God’s discreton
God says, come into existence, and it does

Yet I am exhausted but at all not hopeless…
I was about to fantasize in the center of the town

Innkeeper, give them
A lot of september, a bit of poetry
“Which one is poetry, which one is september?” he asked
Give the most beautiful one, served mixed in the center
Let it be timeless, at an unexpected moment
That’s okay I had lost it long time ago
You see that castle, you can see it…
It was captured!
The rose gardens over there were ablaze…
They were withered!
The wreathy one does not exist anymore…

How about pavements, they too have gone…
Gravestones, my ashes…
Time streamed over them, turned into water, and it found a way
Give a september, the most beautiful one
Let it not be a summer not an autumn
Let them blend in and got forgotten
Like my past
Yet I am exhausted but at all not hopeless

English Translation by Mesut Şenol