The hardest Teskoto

Teshkoto The Dificult one  Dance : 

Teshkoto The Dificult one  Dance

WORD TESHKOTO OVER 3000 YEARS OLD WE READ IN HOMER ILLIAD”THNESKO” : 

WORD TESHKOTO OVER 3000 YEARS OLD WE READ IN HOMER ILLIAD”THNESKO”

Persians, told, when attacked Alexander the Great, are listened to sounds terrible. Sounds made by drums and instruments that gave a strange sound.We felt chills from that sound. : 

Persians, told, when attacked Alexander the Great, are listened to sounds terrible. Sounds made by drums and instruments that gave a strange sound.We felt chills from that sound.

“Teshkoto”   (The Dificult one - Dance)By Blaze Konevski  ( Translation  by Dr.Stojadin B. Naumovski-Dr.Coci ) O, teshkoto ! Why is that as soon as the  zurly scream wild,as soon as  the drum thunders  with underground echohot sadness is  burning   me in the chest,why is a river  poring in to my eyesand why is that  I feel crying  as a child,to  bend my hands, to cover my face,to bite my lips, and  squeeze  my cursed heart ,not to  shout . O teskoto! Zurli stom divo ke pisnat,stom tapan ke grmne so podzemen ekotvo gradive zosto zal luta me stiska,vo ocive zosto mi navira rekai zosto mi ide da placam ko dete,da previjam race, da prekrijam likda grizam jas usni, stegam srce kleto,da ne pusti vik. : 

“Teshkoto”   (The Dificult one - Dance)By Blaze Konevski  ( Translation  by Dr.Stojadin B. Naumovski-Dr.Coci ) O, teshkoto ! Why is that as soon as the  zurly scream wild,as soon as  the drum thunders  with underground echohot sadness is  burning   me in the chest,why is a river  poring in to my eyesand why is that  I feel crying  as a child,to  bend my hands, to cover my face,to bite my lips, and  squeeze  my cursed heart ,not to  shout . O teskoto! Zurli stom divo ke pisnat,stom tapan ke grmne so podzemen ekotvo gradive zosto zal luta me stiska,vo ocive zosto mi navira rekai zosto mi ide da placam ko dete,da previjam race, da prekrijam likda grizam jas usni, stegam srce kleto,da ne pusti vik.

O, teshkoto ! Here the old men are coming out, With thoughts on the forehead, and their eyes wetAnd the first step on the soft meadowIs calm and slow, with suspended sadness.But drum growls and screech raisesAnd lightning sparks in every gaze ,And forward comes down, arrows, streams the tight row.  O, teskoto ! Starci izleguvaat eve,na celo im misla, vo oci im vlagai prviot cekor po mekata trevae miren i baven, so zadrzana taga.No 'rznuva tapan i piskot se krevai molnja svetnuva vo sekoj gled,i napred se spusta, se strelka, se slevastegnatiot red. : 

O, teshkoto ! Here the old men are coming out, With thoughts on the forehead, and their eyes wetAnd the first step on the soft meadowIs calm and slow, with suspended sadness.But drum growls and screech raisesAnd lightning sparks in every gaze ,And forward comes down, arrows, streams the tight row.  O, teskoto ! Starci izleguvaat eve,na celo im misla, vo oci im vlagai prviot cekor po mekata trevae miren i baven, so zadrzana taga.No 'rznuva tapan i piskot se krevai molnja svetnuva vo sekoj gled,i napred se spusta, se strelka, se slevastegnatiot red.

Next to the old man the young are catching up on the jump;The heart  - the grey falcon in the cell could not  hold backthe live fire bent in the eye could not hold backthe youth that wants to fly away  could not  hold back !The dance started its lullaby! The ground spinning   around,And  it  looked  as if it reaps out  the shaken century,And  the surrounding numb hillswere returning their echo. Do starcite momci se fakaat skokum;ne izdrza srce - siv sokol vo kletka,ne izdr`a plamen ziv potulen v oko,ne izdrza mladost zto saka da letne!Se zalula oro! Se zavrte zemja,i cinis - se korne stresnatiot vek,i okolu trpnat ridistata temnii vrakaat ek. : 

Next to the old man the young are catching up on the jump;The heart  - the grey falcon in the cell could not  hold backthe live fire bent in the eye could not hold backthe youth that wants to fly away  could not  hold back !The dance started its lullaby! The ground spinning   around,And  it  looked  as if it reaps out  the shaken century,And  the surrounding numb hillswere returning their echo. Do starcite momci se fakaat skokum;ne izdrza srce - siv sokol vo kletka,ne izdr`a plamen ziv potulen v oko,ne izdrza mladost zto saka da letne!Se zalula oro! Se zavrte zemja,i cinis - se korne stresnatiot vek,i okolu trpnat ridistata temnii vrakaat ek.

And as if this over flown dance was ingrown With heavenly power in to our landAnd in it the sound of the rivers talk you hearAnd in it  the scream of wild and scary windAnd in it the whisper of the golden wheatAnd the evening quiet   fragrance  spreads,And the soil breads  in the spring fullnessWith fired up breath. I bozem se vraslo kipnatovo oroso iskonska sila za zemjava nasai vo nego sumi na rekite zborot,i vo nego rika div veter i straseni vo nego sepnat uzreani zitjai veceren miris se razleva tih,i zemjata dise vo proletna sitostso zapalen zdiv. : 

And as if this over flown dance was ingrown With heavenly power in to our landAnd in it the sound of the rivers talk you hearAnd in it  the scream of wild and scary windAnd in it the whisper of the golden wheatAnd the evening quiet   fragrance  spreads,And the soil breads  in the spring fullnessWith fired up breath. I bozem se vraslo kipnatovo oroso iskonska sila za zemjava nasai vo nego sumi na rekite zborot,i vo nego rika div veter i straseni vo nego sepnat uzreani zitjai veceren miris se razleva tih,i zemjata dise vo proletna sitostso zapalen zdiv.

And it seems like the soul of my suffering ancestorsIs fully textured   in to this hard dance-Piled up futile century by century   of darknessFrom the bloody pain, from the cursed slavery,Century by century composed by the unyielding ideaFor a happy family, for free world,From the song of love that is dying with a screamLike a flying crane.  I dusata cinis, na rodot moj macenvo teskoto oro se utkala seta -vek po vek sto trupal se' popust i mracenod krvava bolka, od robija kleta,vek po vek sto nizel od korava mislaza radosna celad, za sloboden svet,od pesna - za ljubov sto gine so pisokko zerav vo let. : 

And it seems like the soul of my suffering ancestorsIs fully textured   in to this hard dance-Piled up futile century by century   of darknessFrom the bloody pain, from the cursed slavery,Century by century composed by the unyielding ideaFor a happy family, for free world,From the song of love that is dying with a screamLike a flying crane.  I dusata cinis, na rodot moj macenvo teskoto oro se utkala seta -vek po vek sto trupal se' popust i mracenod krvava bolka, od robija kleta,vek po vek sto nizel od korava mislaza radosna celad, za sloboden svet,od pesna - za ljubov sto gine so pisokko zerav vo let.

O, teshkoto ! Whenever in silence I am watching  you,gray  dark fog is falling over  my eyes,and suddenly – to infinity  the line extendsthe hills vanish  in empty  desert –and from the muddy fog  here there comes againshadow  next to shadow,  and all  one next to the otherin endless line dance  son  behind the fatherbehind the  grand  father is grand son. O teskoto! Koga vo molk, da te gledam,na ocive magla mi napa|a sura,i odednas - v beskraj se rastega redoti ridja se gubat v pustelija stura -i eve kaj ide od maglata matnase' senka do senka, se' eden do drug -vo beskrajno oro sin odi po tatka,po deda si - vnuk. : 

O, teshkoto ! Whenever in silence I am watching  you,gray  dark fog is falling over  my eyes,and suddenly – to infinity  the line extendsthe hills vanish  in empty  desert –and from the muddy fog  here there comes againshadow  next to shadow,  and all  one next to the otherin endless line dance  son  behind the fatherbehind the  grand  father is grand son. O teskoto! Koga vo molk, da te gledam,na ocive magla mi napa|a sura,i odednas - v beskraj se rastega redoti ridja se gubat v pustelija stura -i eve kaj ide od maglata matnase' senka do senka, se' eden do drug -vo beskrajno oro sin odi po tatka,po deda si - vnuk.

The suffering  times are  their  field ,here music is the jingle of the chains,Their heads are bent down,And They walk slow - all step by step.O times lived by my ancestors  in darkness,Who will  find a word for your  fear ?!Who will find me a word for the open terror   For the disaster and mass murder ?! Vreminjata mracni se nivnoto pole,i nivnata svirka - na prangite zvekot,a glavite im se navedeni dole,i pokroce vrvat - se' cekor po cekor.O vreminja, sto ve v mrak rodot moj minal,koj zbor ke mi najde za vasata strav?!Koj zbor ke mi najde za uzasot zinatnad pustos i krv?! : 

The suffering  times are  their  field ,here music is the jingle of the chains,Their heads are bent down,And They walk slow - all step by step.O times lived by my ancestors  in darkness,Who will  find a word for your  fear ?!Who will find me a word for the open terror   For the disaster and mass murder ?! Vreminjata mracni se nivnoto pole,i nivnata svirka - na prangite zvekot,a glavite im se navedeni dole,i pokroce vrvat - se' cekor po cekor.O vreminja, sto ve v mrak rodot moj minal,koj zbor ke mi najde za vasata strav?!Koj zbor ke mi najde za uzasot zinatnad pustos i krv?!

Who will give me the number of the hot wounds,Of the firry nights, of the deserted burn and  dusts,Who will count the pains stock piled in the heart,And the tears in the eyes and curses  on the lips.O, the hard one (dance)! You were the chain of slaves,Of brunette girls  and  line of brides,with hands holding  the  catch, by the rape of the cursed   vicious savage .  Koj broj ke mi kaze na lutite rani,na plamnati noki, na peplista pusti,koj na srce bolki }e izredi zbrani,i na oci solzi, i kletvi na usti.O teskoto! Sindzir ti bese na robja,od kalesi momi i nevesti red,so vrzani race so plen sto gi pognalnasilnikot klet. : 

Who will give me the number of the hot wounds,Of the firry nights, of the deserted burn and  dusts,Who will count the pains stock piled in the heart,And the tears in the eyes and curses  on the lips.O, the hard one (dance)! You were the chain of slaves,Of brunette girls  and  line of brides,with hands holding  the  catch, by the rape of the cursed   vicious savage .  Koj broj ke mi kaze na lutite rani,na plamnati noki, na peplista pusti,koj na srce bolki }e izredi zbrani,i na oci solzi, i kletvi na usti.O teskoto! Sindzir ti bese na robja,od kalesi momi i nevesti red,so vrzani race so plen sto gi pognalnasilnikot klet.

O, teshkoto !  You were the chain of slaves,Until the people rise in the leafy woodland,Until the bitterness aggregated trough centuriesDid not start  a strong  rebellious dance!And the dance lullaby trough bloodbath and a fire,And the call was heard through the thunder in smoke-You got spread by the   rebellious footEverywhere in  the motherland. Sindzir ti bese na robja,dur ne stana narod vo listena gora,se' duri so jadot od vekovi sobranne povede bujno, buntovnicko oro!Se zalula tanec niz krvje i ogan,i povik se zacu i grmez vo cad -te raznese segde buntovnata nogapo rodniot kat. : 

O, teshkoto !  You were the chain of slaves,Until the people rise in the leafy woodland,Until the bitterness aggregated trough centuriesDid not start  a strong  rebellious dance!And the dance lullaby trough bloodbath and a fire,And the call was heard through the thunder in smoke-You got spread by the   rebellious footEverywhere in  the motherland. Sindzir ti bese na robja,dur ne stana narod vo listena gora,se' duri so jadot od vekovi sobranne povede bujno, buntovnicko oro!Se zalula tanec niz krvje i ogan,i povik se zacu i grmez vo cad -te raznese segde buntovnata nogapo rodniot kat.

O, teshkoto !  Now days when in our villagesin freedom for the first time I run into a dance,is it strange that – warm tear will  surge,is it strange- that I could feel  sadness in my heart?From age of slavery you my people are comingBut in your heart you bear golden gift and song.Your wheat triple fertile will be, and your life as well.    O teskoto ! Sega po nasite selavo sloboda prvpat stom ke oro sretam,zar cudno e - solza da potece vrela,zar cudno e - zalba jas v srce da setam?Od vekovno ropstvo, moj narode, idesno nosis ti v srce dar zlaten i poj.Pcenicata tvoja : 

O, teshkoto !  Now days when in our villagesin freedom for the first time I run into a dance,is it strange that – warm tear will  surge,is it strange- that I could feel  sadness in my heart?From age of slavery you my people are comingBut in your heart you bear golden gift and song.Your wheat triple fertile will be, and your life as well.    O teskoto ! Sega po nasite selavo sloboda prvpat stom ke oro sretam,zar cudno e - solza da potece vrela,zar cudno e - zalba jas v srce da setam?Od vekovno ropstvo, moj narode, idesno nosis ti v srce dar zlaten i poj.Pcenicata tvoja