NOTHING IS MORE PRESENT THAN YOUR ABSENCE

Poetry is a planet of sounds! Each sound starts with just a simple vibration. Each vibration
starts the heartbeat of everything existing. Everything existing tends to communicate its
existence to its surrounding, thus becoming a part of the symphony of life. As the whole
vibrates into one, one resounds and responds. Now a question arises: What starts the sound
vibration? A thought? And what starts the thought? The senses and feelings? And what wakes
the senses and feelings?
By posing these questions in this logical row, we come to the infinite action-and-reaction issue
and to the balance that we are predestined to put our juxtaposed outer and inner worlds into.
It is a very Hegelian idea in terms of individual arts for when speaking about poetry, Hegel also
starts from the sound i.e. the art of sound as the sign of ideas and representations sound
as speech It is the art of poetry that he refers to in the broad sense of the term. In addition,
when taking it as the most perfect art (PK, 197), he says it is the most unrestricted of the
arts (Aesthetics, 2: 626) because it is capable of showing spiritual freedom both as
concentrated inwardness and as action in space and time.
It is this spiritual freedom both as concentrated inwardness and as action in space and time that
the Macedonian renowned poet Petre M. Andreevski has achieved in his poetry. And not only
that, but the art of sound as speech as well.
In line with that, on the poetic stage of Macedonian literature in the middle of the 20 thc., Petre
M. Andreevski stands out as one of the poets whose poetry is the milestone in the new
approaches to Macedonian poetic expressions. The tense layers of Petre M. Andreevskis poetic
structure and concise linguistic expressions would not only mark his poetry but also enable
unexpected abundance and flow of observations and allusions, both culture-bound and
universal ones. What is essential about him as a poet is that on the surface he gives concise and
sometimes even fudgy poetic information, but in the deeper structure, the reader reveals a
broader meaning and entangled versified experience about the individuals existence and life
either of the poet himself or of others. His sensible and refined profound observation is
accompanied with the sensitivity for the infinity of the time and space spirits surrounding the
observed phenomena or experience.
This exquisite poet, novelist, short story writer, playwright, and translator Petre M.
Andreevski, was born in June, 1934, in the village of Sloetica, Demir Hisar, R. Macedonia. He
graduated from the Faculty of Philosophy (now Faculty of Philology) in Skopje and worked as an
editor with Macedonian Television and with the periodical Razgledi. He was member of the
Macedonian P.E.N. Centre and of the Macedonian writers Association, and awarded
Membership of the Macedonian Academy of Sciences and Arts in 2000, too.
Poetry, short stories, novels, plays, screenplays, and translations are the inheritance he
bestowed on Macedonian language, culture, and people: Jazli (Knots), 1960; I na nebo i na
zemja (Both on Heaven and Earth), 1962; Denicija (Denicija), 1968; Dalni nakovalni (Distant
Anvils), 1971; Pofalbi I polaki (Praises and Complaints), 1975; Vena kukja (Eternal House),
1987; Lakrimarij (Lachrymatory), 1999. His books of short stories include Neverni godini (Years
of Treason), 1974; Sedmiot den (The Seventh Day), 1994; Site lica na smrtta (All Faces of Death),
1994. His published novels are Pirej (Pirey), 1980; Skakulci (Locusts), 1983; Poslednite selani
(The Last Villagers), 1987; Nebeska Timjanovna (Nebeska Timyanovna), 1988; and Tunel
(Tunnel), 2002. The book Drami (Plays), 1987, includes Vreme za peenje (Time for Singing) and
Bogunemili (descriptive trnsl. Unloved by God). The two books for children aram baram
(Scribble Riddle) and Kasni porasni (Eat and Grow) are among the most favourite with children.
Several selections of his literary opus have been published among which selected works in four
volumes in 1984. He has been included in all anthologies of Macedonian poetry both at home
and abroad. His works have been translated in many languages outside Macedonia.
The awards he won include 11 October, Miladinov Brothers (twice), Koo Racin, and
Stale Popov (twice), and The Order of Merit for Macedonia, the fourth highest state
recognition of Macedonia awarded by the President of Republic of Macedonia. He died in
September, 2006, in Skopje.
It has been ten years since Petre M. Andreevskis death, and the anniversary ceremony
organized to commemorate this great name in the Macedonian literature was attended by a
large number of renowned writers, playwrights, artists, academics, literary reviewers,
professors, respectful and loving readers, as well as by friends, and family members and
relatives. On this occasion, Kristina Nikolovska a poet, an essayist and a literary reviewer,
compared the poet to a wondrous golden metonymy which stands for the best fruits that
the Macedonian spirit and the Macedonian national identity and feeling yield. The national
identity and the love for his country that Petre M. Andreevski cherishes in his literary works is
unbreakably interwoven even in his most beautiful and passionate love poetry such as the lines
of his wide known Denicija:

When I loved Denicija

I felt as if taking part in the creation of
the first Macedonian State
excerpt from When I loved Denicija
excerpt translated
by Stela Maja Bosilkovska
I'm seeking you in the wild chance of unification
of my scattered nation
excerpt from Love Letter V
selected lines from Ewald Oserss trnslation,
published in the peer-reviewed international journal
Blesok - literature & other arts

Denicija is a poetic cycle of 23 sequenced love poems thematically coherent, each of the
poems of different length, number of verses and lines, and listed under different name in
relation to the experiences or love transformation events. Although this poetic cycle was
written in the inspiration of his love for the poetess Svetlana Hristova Jocikj, Petre M.
Andreevski managed to elevate the essence of love to the universal meaning of mans existence
at all a poetic principle dealing with love as a feeling and experience with which our world
begins and ends:

LOVE LETTER I
Nothing is more visible
and nothing is more present than your absence:
not the childish whispers which I discovered
in the crops of the rain,
nor the hint of storm in the cobwebs
in little roadside bars,
nor aerial paths lit up by swallows,
nor that which acquires shape only in my hearing,
nor my hearing while a belated cricket
winds up its nocturnal clock,
nor the birth pangs of the scattered seed,
nor the flaming fire on the cockerel's head
while it runs from the shade that descends from the sky,
nor the space which remains to me between your hands,
between your two hot suns,
nor the snake which ruffles the top of the corn,
nor the snowdrifts and hailstorms in poppy fields,
nor the flame which raises like autumn mist
in the fields of pepper,
nor the love and hatred between key and padlock,
nor the hidden light in a purchased match;
nothing is more visible than the trail you left
before me, behind me, with me and in me.

poem translated by: Ewald Osers

retrieved from
peer-reviewed international journal Blesok - literature & other arts,
No. 50, September-October, 2006

LOVE LETTER V

And I sought you in textbooks, I sought you across the ages,

in the wind's ambushes, in winter's mortars,
in uncomprehended shame on the horizon before sunset,
in uncomprehended longing of a strand of tobacco
which twists and crumbles between the fingers,
in the displaced light of the blind and the dead,
in the equilibrium between past days and future nights,
in the captivity of souls of glass-blowers.
I sought you in the accents of unknown languages,
in the unsaddled evenings and empty beds in the field,
in the surprise primrose behind the herb-seller's ear,
in the punctuation in the speech of whining children.
I'm seeking you in the wild chance of unification
of my scattered nation,
in a stalk of sorrel, in the unused air
which annoyed and appeased the neighbouring villages,
by the anvils of hot and feminine afternoons,
among the fruit hastening towards its seasonal goal,
in the needle which sewed up darkness and light.
I sought you beyond the sky, in heavenly molehills,
in the unread electric meter of an extinguished firefly,
in the assassination attempts by my people against my people,
in the undistinguished constancy of the points of the compass,
undistinguished, and understood as a constant waste of time.
I sought you in the unfinished fear of the shooting star,
unable to reach anything in space.
I sought you, I'm seeking you in all and everything.
I sought you, and seeking you I might only have met you,
but not found you, no, not found you.

poem translated by: Ewald Osers

retrieved from
peer-reviewed international journal Blesok - literature & other arts,
No. 50, September-October, 2006

ON DENICIJAS GRAVE
(excerpt from the end of the poem)

Then, I shiver where I wait for you to walk by

And I leave all the gates of the city open
For you to return at any time.
You glance at me from the sky and from the ground,
And I manage not to tell you
That my death began upon yours
And that a great blessing is to live, but even a greater one to die,
Thinking of you only, Denicija.
excerpt translated
by Stela Maja Bosilkovska

It has been difficult and for most of his readers and friends, even impossible to fill the void left
by Petre M. Andreevskis death. So is the selection of his poems to commemorate this great
man of letters. However, the comparison made by Kristina Nikolovska when saying he is a
wondrous golden metonymy undoubtedly stands for his preserving the richness of the
Macedonian language and dialects, as well. It is a language not of his childhood and grown-up
experiences only but the language of his peoples experiences and their customs, traditions,
and rituals, as well:
MACEDONIAN WEDDING
1.
We went to the graveyard
with drums and timbrels
and invited the dead
to attend our weddings
and not to forget.

And all of them are now here,

sitting in the snow-white room,
we can't see them,
but, alas, they can us.

They cross themselves and break the bread

clink the glasses and spoons,
perhaps they cry and dance,
and we follow only them,
repeat their steps.

2.
They sit beside us, before us,
and perhaps honour the table
by sitting at its front.
They sit and watch
whether it's again the same

as it was in their time:

whether the bride betrothes herself
to the threshold and the fire
with what leg she steps in first.

They listen if we mention them

and if we show enough joy
for their being with us,
for not letting them disappear.

poem translated by: Zoran Anevski

retrieved from
peer-reviewed international journal Blesok - literature & other arts,
No. 04, August-September, 1998

CHARM

She cut off his hair above the forehead,

she clipped the brows, the eyelashes
and, with eyes closed, lent him her breath:
O pain, evil disease and heat,
go hungry, break down, exhausted,
run away like frost before the sun,
go blind and deaf, untie yourself
under the tongue, under the feet
and let his mouth talk
and let his legs walk,
give him back the shadow
and return the soul its body.

poem translated by: Zoran Anevski

retrieved from
peer-reviewed international journal Blesok - literature & other arts,
No. 04, August-September, 1998

GALCHINIK BALCONIES

Without us there would've been no stars in the sky,

nor anyone to receive their light,
without us you wouldn't have known the heights,
nor where day and night divide.

Time starts from us

and can be seen the farthest,
nothing can hide from our eyes,
neither in heaven nor on earth

Climb up and you'll see

where the masters have gone
and when they will return.

poem translated by: Zoran Anevski

retrieved from
peer-reviewed international journal Blesok - literature & other arts,
No. 04, August-September, 1998

In the interview that Provinca had with Petre M. Andreevskis son, the academic and word-wide
known painter Sergej Andreevski, he was asked about the mutual influence he and his father
had on each others arts. Sergej said:
As a child of two great poets Petre M. Andreevski and Svetlana Hristova Jocikj, it was
impossible for me not to be influenced by their poetic spirit. Even more, my father also did a lot
of drawing and sketching. He even wanted to enroll in the Arts College when he was fourteen.
Good he didnt for he wouldnt have written his great poetry and books. And yes, we certainly
did influence one another. But it would be unfair not to emphasize the wild beauty of the nature
in the Demir Hisar countryside and of the mountains surrounding this area and my
grandoarents village; highland with cliffs and downs, and green fields intersected with streams
and brooks, rich in colourful flora and fauna are poetic by no means. I spent most of my
childhood there and carry this world in my heart. The moment I start searching inside myself,
images and pictures emerge and place themselves on my canvas. I would say that this region of
Demir Hisar and the area of Sloetica village determined the arts pathways of both of us: its wild
and colourful beauty along with the beauty of its inhabitants spirit humouros, proud, and
characteristic of fighters. Both the area and inhabitants spirit nature enrich and complement
the artists talent making it inexhaustible, infinite, timeless, global, and universal. The colurs
which prevail in my paintings are those I have absorbed in my heart from the colours of the
nature and the lifestyle there: the green of the outdoors, the red of the hand-woven works
indoors and the sun in the sky all in harmony and searching for verses or canvas to place itself
and stay there eternal.
Sergej Andreevski was born in Skopje, Macedonia in 1960, and graduated from the Faculty of
Fine Arts in Skopje in 1985, followed by postgraduate study abroad with scholarships from the
Galleria di Arte Moderna in Rome, Italy, and from the city of Nuremberg, Germany. He has
participated in more than 200 group exhibitions in his own country, and in Europe, the USA,
Japan, and China. He is a winner of many national awards, and his paintings and drawings are
owned by state institutions and museums all over the world as well as by private collectors.
World art critics define his arts as wild freedom of expression and originating from (a)
crossroads of passionate extremes (Star News Online, April 22, 2009).

When asked whether there is a Denicija among his paintings, he said that the blue portrait of
his mother The Portrait of Svetlana was the one depicting his fathers Denicija.

Author of the article and interviewer

Stela Maja Bosilkovska;
information for the article for Provinca November issue provided
by courtesy of Sergej Andreevski, and
by courtesy of Kalina Bunevska-Isakovska

References:
www.blesok.com.mk/
http://www.sergej.com.mk/
http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/hegel-aesthetics/#SysIndArt

Titles of art works enclosed by Sergej Andreevski:

Latkolivada; Spring People; Female Tobacco-breeder; The Kiss of Flowers;
Portrait of Svetlana; Sloetica Villagers; Surreal painting 8; Surreal painting