Let the sky rise high above you, Rhine!
Let the wind lick the ashes of the sunny evenings
From your skirts.
Ibraim Džemail
Ibraim Džemail was born in Skopje, Macedonia. His first book of poetry, Night Scarab, was published in 1980, and second book, Return to the Roots, was published in 2015 in Skopje. Since 2016, he has been a member of the Association of Writers of North Rhine-Westphalia (ENW). In 2017, he obtained a certificate for completing a course in the Roma language and culture. In Skopje, in 2018, his poetry collection Archaic Feelings was published, and in the same year, in Belgrade, within the framework of the Association of Roma Writers, his book Gods on the Ramparts was published. He publishes his works in literary magazines in Macedonia and abroad.
For his contribution to Roma literature, he was awarded the Lifetime Achievement Award “Slobodan Berberski” in Belgrade. On the occasion of the celebration of the 1000th anniversary of the city of Rome, Ibraim Džemail participated in the event in New Delhi, India, in 2018. Džemail is a participant in numerous international poetry festivals, where he has received many cups, medals, diplomas and certificates. In February 2020, his book Weltenbummler durch unsere Wurzeln (Journey Through Our Roots) was published in Frankfurt, and in the same year, his book Journey Through Time was published in Skopje by the Barikanipe Cultural and Media Centre. In 2024, his book Keys to Paradise was published in Skopje by the Barikanipe Cultural and Media Centre. In December of the same year, he participated in an event in Milan, Italy, where he received the prestigious Ambassador of Culture and Peace in the World Award, while in Belgrade he was once again presented with a Lifetime Achievement Award. In September 2025, he participated in the “Sadrvan – Balkan Evening of Poetry” event in Skopje.
IN THE RHINE’S LAP
From Lake Toma all the way to the Northern sea,
On the stairway of heaven,
I have planted
A thousand two hundred and eighty-three chrysanthemums, and
By breathe of my soul
I caressed them all.
Let the sky rise high above you, Rhine!
Let the wind lick the ashes of the sunny evenings
from your skirts.
I will be watching you, Rhine, the secret of God!
As the endless silence of my part of heaven’s sliding
Down the throat of the day and
the bone marrow’s contracting!
I will whisper the messages
hidden in secret codes.
____
HUNGER
We found peace in the nests of the Moon.
But the curse of ancient times spreads anxiety.
Someone is chasing our suffering, growling at it.
And sprinkling the black path, as it flees beneath.
With our own tears, we were
washing the path, drinking milk together
All was gone, except the curse.
We stopped.
We hugged a dried tree.
We kissed our shadow.
And the curse was over.
Life gave us a hand,
We rose up.
We’re on the road again…
Where it leads – we’ll see!
____
VIA SHUTKA*
I got up
with a nightmare under my arm.
The dawn breaks up from dream.
The road becomes a crossroad:
The red thread ball stops
and unites with the needles!
That’s а wicked magic!
My side is gone,
There is no road, no sky with me!
How can I get to Skopje?
No sound from my God!
If he is a word and has a tongue,
Why he is not announcing the truth?
* Shutka is a settlement in the city of Skopje.
____
THE GOLGOTHA OF ROMA PEOPLE
The lanterns light up day and night
in the Blue Mosque in Istanbul, Turkey
to light up the soul of the Gods!
Someone wanted the ashes
of Roma people’s soul
to be wiped out by the wind!
The lanterns are lit up every day
in Punjab and Rajasthan,
the souls of the Gods to be lit up!
Here, where our ancestors have lived
Ashes of Roma’s soul
are bathing in the river.
There is blue and white light,
It warms up Gods and villages.
____
GODS AT THE STAND
To my ancestors
My grand-fathers,
My great grand-fathers,
the time has stopped.
Life is like a poison.
The clouds are the same.
The big hordes
of the Huns, Tatars and Mongols
are taking out our eyes
and they are burying them in the desert!
One of our eyes is black
The other is blue.
For twenty days and nights
our Gods are burning at the stand.
They are burning, but they can’t burn away!
You, my ancestors, have experienced it
in Buchenwald: they take off your skin from your body!
The body stretches
and new skin grows.
And in Auschwitz, too: they put you in the stove,
but you exit through the chimney,
and you reach the God’s House!
But, what can we do now?
There is no more res extensa,
Nor res cogitans.
(Descartes isn’t trendy anymore!)
The House of God collapsed!
Where is our place under the sun?
__________
