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Portrait of Struga

By Fatmir Terziu A fist of curls disturbs the silence Like greying hair, swimming on the Drin The ring of the bank of Ohrid holds them on its back Blue-green and fresh in every season. From afar, a swan descends slowly Open-winged, white and rare Landing on the lake with a splatter And kissing his water with longing. Curls, splatters, and the sky blue All become one colour As if in a canvas, the sun places This portrait of Struga in your face.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013




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Book: Shattered Sighs