Following the white griffin’s trail & more….

By Stefan Markovski


Following the white griffin’s trail


In a body of demigod beast imperial shadows of chthonic forces douse

kingdoms united into the singularity of all beings

become golden ruins under steel-feathered wings

in an incense smoke sighs are clothed through which gods send answers

when you pass through tunnels of glass hope

virgin blood supplies your cells.


A griffin pierces far into the heavens in search for

a magnificent day for a perfect melancholy.

Everyone knows, few believe that the blank in each whiteness

holds the most colorful rainbow sewed up in a full stop

the well in which the souls drown

suggests an illusion of all destinies buried into a tunnel with one exit

where the celestial blueness reflects off the lonely trains’ glass.

Asian winds blow statues of flesh

before showing you the way to the only truth — downward

all the definitions of joy and wisdom are carrying explosive 

waiting for its moment in front of faces yet to blush.


The rain is rage of myriad of mirrors and swords

they guard the innocence of the land pieces between us

and the magic of the air with taste of white birds

black hounds chase the moon at dusk

and, hiding behind the mountains,

bark with a lion’s roar

then the night sculpts new tunnels of hope from itself

hope undefiled as an intact wine bottle pointing the way.


A short history of а fireproof purity


Exhaustion is a time not passing,

be patient and leave, it could be that you’ll taste natural paradises again,

you extinguish by a prayer mortals, hasting to become rivers,

your eyes, never touched

are enough to the fields, with or without water

to hatch them and offer to the red-shining skies

O, flames, evaporating heretical thoughts painted into a body,

only you, you give birth to purity identical to that of a new flesh,

novum and spiritum novum tribuam in carnem potest,

every birth is a new path to Thinking,

ora pro nobis,

every craftsman, saint and sage, every bishop of exorcisms, every celestial clown and every mage

builds white pain in Snow White’s snow,

ora pro nobis peccatoribus,

and the truths shall remain One.


Stefan Markovski was born in Gevgelija, where he completed primary and secondary education. Graduated on both the Department of Comparative Literature and the Institute of Philosophy and obtained MA in Screenwriting at the state university in Skopje, Macedonia. He has won domestic and foreign literary awards for his novels, short stories and poetry and has been included in numerous anthologies of contemporary literature, he has participated at literary festivals, and his works have been published in over 20 languages.



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