The women from my country
All the widows from the earth
Of my place beside the posthumous picture
Of their man
Ordered
A place for their own figure
To be hollowed
In the smooth marble surface

Fearing to be caught
By the remnant of coming tears
They were telling me
In this way they announce
Their imminent departure
To the recent widower
In life after death

Some of them lived long
In years of labour
Some of them with secret desire
Worshipped new saints
Until their final day
At the Lenten feasts
After long and heavy fasting
Widows from the earth of my place
In withered passion
Pressed their cheeks
Against ellipses hollowed in the marble

Dressed in their best
Went in to light a great candle

And show their blushing cheeks
Before the icons

Translated by: Lence Milosevska and Margaret Reid