Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Coming home

How can I connect with these people, how can I
How can I tell who is friend or foe
Who will call me Bulgarian, Greek or non existent
Or embrace me as their own

Who will challenge, argue or deny me
Professing, to know more about me, than I, myself
Forcing me to instantly, brace myself
Against well known hurt, as now

It is not the prodigal daughter, returning to Ellada
With a false face, smile and heart
But a banished child of Macedonia, home
To pay homage, to my mother

The language here is foreign
Alien, inconsistent with the land
I strain to here something familiar
Native to my land

Time has passed, the weakened are now stronger
I see, I see, I see
The truth, will eventually surface
And it will set, Macedonia, free

By Lita G.

Lita is a Macedonian, born in Aegean Macedonia, now living in Australia. Lita remembers that, as a kid, she and other Macedonian kids were forced to learn Greek right from the first day in school, and that it was forbidden to speak Macedonian language.

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