Julija Lumbur Krstevska

Born in Bitola, Macedonia. Graduated at University Cyril & Methodius, Skopje, Macedonia - English Language & Literature. 
MA - Teaching Management at the Institute of Sociological and Legal Researches, Skopje, Macedonia.
Additional Qualifications in Intermediate English, English as a second Language, French as a Second Language & Special Education at York University, Ontario Canada.
Member in good standing at: Ontario College of Teachers, Ontario TESL& associate of Canadian Writers Trust.
Works at Halton District School Board in Ontario, Canada as English literature & French language teacher.
Author of two published books of poetry, two dramas: The Blues From Over The Ocean & Strangers in Our Fancy and numerous critical reviews

THE RETURN

We bring it from far Away.

We feed it with our soul's Breath.

We shelter it with own Shoulders

As we carry it across the Oceans.

Than is silent expectation,

We plant it in a new Soil.

and hesitantly wait:

Would It Sprout

Would  It Blossom.

THE PRAYER OF THE ENCIRCLE

Dawn and Fair

The Space and the Time in the embrace of a plot!

I am alert. The wisdom tells me I am wrong

And my eyes recognize the image of the Agony.

Only because it is real.

A yellow leaf trembles tenderly and falls

And my love for you tears itself to patches.

It starts hating!

Countless unwrapped centuries

Thunder beside me in thundering powers.

My love is still alive!

My hatred is ardently vivid.

I haven’t forgotten yet!

Core and Fair

It is with tender violin pulsations

That you invite me for a carnival.

To run away from the city of burning streets

In the meadows with freshly cut grass.

I couldn’t come!

They were cutting the trees in my back yard.

I could hear as their breath stopped;

They prayed and pleaded helplessly.

We, in our motionless state of feebleness,

We, we didn’t move to do anything!

Sundown and Fair

We were setting a bed of stones.

Alone, You and Me!

I knew you will wait for me to leave together.

MY FRIEND

It was in the dawn of my life.

The sunshine turned into fog

and smiles poured in tears.

We had to look at each other.

My friend.

Had you asked me for my land,

I would become a guest

on what belonged to my father.

Had you asked me for my forests,

I would cut them all

and lit a fire to keep you warm.

Had you asked me for my shores,

I would sand them in golden dust

and build a castle for you.

You asked for the frail strength

of my old mother's breath.

You asked for the thumping

of my faithful wife's heart.

You asked for the irides

in my children eyes.

How could I give that to anyone?

My friend.