Looking For An Answer - Poem by Slavko Janevski
It left his skin on a stone
and turned into stone. A viper.
It grunted from rifle shots
and turned into mist. A wild boar.
It washed its eyes in foam
and turned into a sigh. Day.
In the village of Vrazi Dol
Old father Time has sat down on a stone
and on his fingers
how many drops of blackberry wine are needed
to prolong his life.
You can ask yourself and still you won't know:
Does time die with man?
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