Jovica Tasevski – Eternijan (born 25th July 1976, Skopje) is a renowned Macedonian poet, essayist and literary critic. He graduated from the Comparative Literature Department, Faculty of Philology “Blaže Koneski” in Skopje, Republic of Macedonia. Works in National and University Library “St. Clement of Ohrid” – Skopje.

He is a member of the Editorial Board of the Macedonian literary magazine “Stremež” and a consultant for Macedonian poetry on “The Other Voices International Project”, an anthology of world poetry, included in the World Poetry Directory of UNESCO.

Published books: “Нешто се слуша” (Something Can Be Heard, poetry, 1995), “Визии. Глагол” (Visions. Verb, poetry, 1997), “Веда” (Lightning, poetry, 1998), “Постојното, плимата” (The Constant, the Tide, literary criticism, essays and studies, 2000), “Клатно” (Pendulum, poetry, 2001), “Небесни стражи” (Heavenly Guards, poetry, 2004), “Посоки и огледи” (Directions and Reflections, literary criticism, essays and studies, 2006), “Синтакса на светлината” (The Syntax of the Light, selected poems, volume 91 in capital project “Macedonian Literature”, 2008).

With Maja Apostoloska he edited an anthology of Macedonian poetry with religious, biblical and apocryphal motifs, published as a special issue of magazine “Stremež”. Also he is compiler of anthology of youth Macedonian poetry, entitled “Unidentified Celestial Bosom” (2001).

He won The Enchanting Poet Award for excellent contribution in poetry writing, given by The Enchanting Verses International poetry journal.

His poetry have appeared in many literary magazines, it is represented in a number of anthologies and has been translated into several languages.

He is a member of the Macedonian Writers’ Association, The Poetry Society and of the World Poets Society.

He worked as a Director and Editor-in-Chief in Publishing House “Makavej” (2000) and as a Officer in Department for International Cooperation of the Ministry of Culture of the Republic of Macedonia (2001).

Poems:

Attempts for a Vertical

Onto the dead hillock
An angel dropped
Its wings down

And the hollows
Across the frozen bare terrain
Onto the meek attempts
As a furious throng
They threw on

Even the shadow
From the tiny swings
With shiny evil
Through the words it spread.

Towards Virgin Waves It Chases Us
(lust. reddish)

Black horsemen
With red-hot swords
Gallop along the blood

With wide open wings
Sowing sharp flames
That grind

Wavy movements
bend
under the tame darkness

And the face erodes
As smooth as ice
Cross the transparent hourglass

The grass waves
Into a wrong prayer
And pulls

Towards silver strings
From volcanic yearnings
For a play