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My Veles

In the hart of Macedonia, down there where the three rivers weave the space, grows a city more powerful than the time. Extend in the space twitched by the valleys of the mountain rivers Topolka and Babuna, leaned on powerful water of Vardar, Veles grows through historic temptations, through symbolic meaning of its historic names. Bilazora, Villazora, Kupurli: the great city, the city built in the forest, the city of the bridges... Lift proudly above the canyon of Taor as a pulls of life in the middle of the Macedonia, Veles keeps in silence all the fires of the Balkan and world-wide wars, all the revolutionary movements, all his avant-gardes, his traders, his industrial expansion, the authenticity of his culture and all the symbols of the spirit of his obstinate people. Registered in the historic records as a city that peony tribes create during the roman period, Veles intrigues again the scientists with the artifacts of the numerous archeological sites, certain 70.000 years old. The rock on the former citadel „Kalekeeps in coldness the hot memories of the stormy times as the waters of Vardar, calm as the sunset above Veles. It weaves on the space the histories of his birth in 168 before Christ, the histories of the old Macedonians, Romans, and first Sclavinias that the tribes Slavs create here in the IV centuries. It whispers about the cry of the mothers for their sons broke by the pest, keeps in itself five centuries of ottoman government, years of wars and revolutions, thousands of writings on the sufferings and the Macedonian hopes. The rock moans in silence for the sons of Veles which names are engraved on eternity. And in the twilight when all calms, his murmur touches the secular sycamores as if it wants to slash in them all the untold histories on Veles. Here, on this cruise of the Balkans, pulsate the veins of the most bourgeois city in Macedonia, here is growing the city of the biggest one among the poets, the city of Ratcin of which poems break the silence on the windows and the noise on the streets as a worm invitation for all the passengers guided so far, in the hart of Macedonia The hart, big door The hart, wide door