The International Biography Centre in Cambridge, UK, has included Macedonian poet Radovan Pavlovski in the edition of the "2,000 outstanding personalities of the 20th century" as part of the "Who is who among the intellectuals" edition. This worldwide known and highly acclaimed publishing house explains that Radovan Pavlovski's selection as one of the 2,000 exceptional authors of 62 countries whose works have marked this century in the field of literature is mainly owing to his outstanding personality and to his literary achievements, which rise beyond national achievements. According to the publisher, the main objective of the edition, which is still being processed, is to improve the understanding between people.

Radovan Pavlovski was born in Nis in 1937. His works have been translated into Serbian, Croatian, Slovene, Albanian, Turkish, Romanian, French, and English. He has won several awards.

  
Corn field with crows
(From a cycle of poems entitled Van Gogh's Summer)

Out of the light, hidden, they fly in,
a flock of black crows. They peck one another,
pluck one another, croak and twist into a storm
over the corn field. They want to take something
from me and from the ripe corn
and to shade me under the Starry Roof
of Summer, and I, thus darkened with a colour
that was unexpectedly born, fling them
on the canvas and store the ripe corn
in a barn from a Star.
 
  
The sun at Arles
(From the same cycle)

I harness the Sun
but it both resists and seduces
like a young bride at first kiss
on her wedding night. Between countries and peoples
shouldn't there be tenderness, home, mother or lover?
I want to multiply or not to be, I don't know which.
Whenever I sing or love I'm always fettered
ike a demon for that Sun and for that Now
 
I'm tortured both by Desert and by Fruitfulness
 
Under the precise and high blue sea
a white chalk line and the shadow of a cloud
of unearthly rain - mysterious
blue-green hieroglyphs of Ra,
his ashes yellow, without dew,
perpetual garment that will also be food
for my sunflower
 
Scattered the seed of my sun
in the furrows of the world
And what can be done here now?
 
Two deities -
one in the sky, the other on earth,
like twins they are in constant touch.
 
 
Instruction

 When I die
carry me
on a bier of metaphors
 
Don't put me down
from the shores of one sea
on to the shores of another
Leave me to rest
Let the distant weep
 
When I die
don't close my eyes
continue your love
with blind insignificance
 
When I die
don't carry me dead to the River.
In the world's eye
bury me.
 
Gypsies

Dispersed like dark drops of rain
in the heat,
they have neither church nor prayer, nor realm to wage war.
For others they forged a sword,
for themselves they sang a lonely song
And him who sang most beautifully among them
they chose for their ruler.
 
 
Orpheus looking back

He turned to Her and She revived.
She's fallen asleep over my song.
Did she want me to stay in love
and unborn? Prophecies
came from light
like the combined voice of cockerels.
Was it the snowdrop nurtured by the snows,
as I within myself counted the waves?
I searched for you.
I roamed.
I roamed.
 
No.
There is no death.
Heaven is innocent.