Nafia Akdeniz was born in Nicosia, Cyprus. She studied English Literature and Humanities at the Eastern Mediterranean University. Her poems, translations and articles have been published in various literary and academic journals. She published her first collection of poetry ‘Yok/Absence’ in 2013 (second edition, 2016). Her poems have been translated into English, Greek, German and Persian.
She has been working as a senior instructor of English at the Eastern Mediterranean University since 2000. She is now a PhD candidate in the Faculty of Communication and Media Studies doing an ethnographic study of narrative communication on place, displacement and place attachment. Among her research interests are literary communication, contemporary ethnographies, creative writing.
Aleksandra Radaković, was born in 1993 in Kraljevo (Serbia). She graduated the Faculty of Law in Belgrade. She is currently pursuing her Masters of Cultural Studies at the Faculty of Political Science in Belgrade. She published “Polazište”, a book of poetry, essays and travel notes. She is the owner of the production company ArteTim, where she produces film content with her TV team. She works as an editor and PR manager at Belgrade ARTE Publishing House. She is the PR of the Kantfest Composers Festival in Belgrade, the Inđija PRO POET International Literature Festival and the Serbian Culture Daysi in Istria (Croatia). She has participated in many International Literature, Film and Art Festivals in over twenty countries. Her works are published in numerous volumes and translated into six languages. She works and lives in Belgrade.
~ Antaripa Dev Parashar reads Serbian poet Aleksandra Radakovic’s poem ফুলাম অভিব্যক্তি . Assamese translation by Debasish Parashar. ~
The sky has lit its brightest lantern, and gold-winged stars have perched themselves beneath the clouds, where they spin the most delicate web of dreams. You ask me what sense means? What love is? Why I defend Karenina and curse Vronsky, why my favorite love story is the one between Mayakovsky and Tatyana Yakovleva, a love that never really happened, but was showed through flowers. Those flowers that kept arriving to her Despite and in spite of everyone else. Close your eyes and listen to the silence. Dive into infinity. Throw the hook into the blue guts of the skies And you will realize… We are mere grains of dust that for a moment sparkled on the ground. New life will never be justification for death. All the rivers flow into our bloodstreams and each mountain takes breath with our lungs. All seeds ripen inside us, inside our wombs and your chests. And everything is simple, though it seems difficult, but we are unprepared to think in a simple manner. The entire universe lies shrank inside of the pupils, just look closely and in every man you will see a sobbing child, trapped, and life itself is so childish. And then you ask me what love is? Our desire for existence, for entropy and decomposition… The desire not to burn out like the gold-winged stars that nest under the wings of the Moon. Like the lightning that deflowers heavens and vanishes. And you know, love is justification. It gives sense to senselessness And light to the darkness. It smells just like those bouquets Which long after Mayakovsky Kept arriving at her door.