Nikola Madžirov with Becca Stevens at the World Poetry Salon
By Sylvie Delaney
Sylvie Delaney is a current writer, aspiring New Yorker, and undergraduate student at The Evergreen State College where she is studying journalism. Sylvie has published personal essays, restaurant and live performance reviews, and is a contributor at The Cooper Point Journal.
A cosmopolitan crowd of spectators gathered on the broad seventh floor of the Stavros Niarchos Foundation Library to attend the World Poetry Salon, an event featuring the Macedonian poet Nikola Madžirov, who was accompanied by singer and musician Becca Stevens. Prior to the event’s commencement, each audience member was given an optional World Poetry Foundation tote bag and a packet of translations of Madžirov’s poems from Macedonian to English—non optional, unless one is a fluent reader of the former.
After we gathered into the dark event space and settled in with our translations, the night began with an introduction by Wang Yin, the founder of Limelight Poetry. In a soft pattern of speech, Yin introduced himself with a touching story of why he felt it was important to live in New York and promote poetry in the city. After thanking the poetry members in Chinese and English, Yin supplied a bit of proof of this in the form of a promise before ceding the stage: “A poetry reading can make all the difference in the world.” We clapped our hands in support, and with that, Madžirov and Stevens prepared themselves on stage for a night of original poetry and song.
Delicate notes rang from Stevens’ charango, a twelve-stringed Andean instrument resembling a ukulele. The sound sang out of the instrument and decorated the large room’s ambiance with a folksy and ruminative melody that set the tone for the verbal rhythms that came from Madžirov. The first poem was titled “After us,” recited in somber Macedonian with the last several lines spoken twice over in English. As the poems continued, there was a sense that one felt as if they were teleported in the middle of the emotive scenery he paints, or transformed into an object used in the similes that suffuse his stanzas like the rich walnut paste that fills a crisp oblatne. “I live between two truths like a neon light trembling in an empty hall,” Madžirov lamented in WHEN SOMEONE GOES AWAY EVERYTHING THAT’S BEEN DONE COMES BACK. The poetic cadence with which Madžirov spoke grew more intense as we were serenaded along with the repeating melodies that sounded nostalgic and sweet, like damp honeysuckle in Spring.
The themes of Madrižov’s poetry explored that of memory, tragedy, death, loneliness, nature, and the ostracization of one’s own identity in the place in which one comes from and lives. In “Home,” Madžirov described the experience of being a child growing up in a forgotten town, where he carved out spaces for himself. There is a sense of loneliness and longing, trying to find and re-find one’s place in the world. The final stanza of the poem translates to English as such: “From birth I’ve migrated to quiet places/and voids have clung beneath me/like snow that doesn’t know if it belongs/to the earth or to the air.” The most memorable of the poems in the performance was “The Eye,” which Stevens repeated in song, weaving together two separate lines to create a chorus, “Open the sky/with one eye only.” This line repeated, prodding the strings and limitations we have to nature.
The connection between Stevens and Madžirov was powerful, yet subtle, and the story of how they collaborated on the performance was further disclosed at the end of the evening. Madžirov sat down after the performance and answered questions from Patricio Ferrari, a longtime friend and poet. He explained that in 2020, Madžirov spent weeks in a hospital bed, sick with COVID-19. It was during that time that he and Stevens would connect, creating the performance recited that night; him writing, and her song-writing. Madžirov was the single survivor of COVID-19 of an entire hospital unit, and posited the barriers between hospital beds as being a symbolic metaphor for the thin barrier between death and breath. Because of his own inability to reach his words the same due to illness, he credits Stevens with having the ability to bring the words to his poetry back to life through song.
This was a highly memorable night of poetry and song, and I felt appreciative of the personal histories Madžirov invited the listener to take part in as we followed along in our handheld translations. The World Poetry Salon is an event that should certainly be taken into consideration for anyone intending to seek a profound, multicultural experience put forth by poets from all over the world.

