Štip (Macedonian: Штип [ʃtip]) is the largest urban agglomeration in the eastern part of the Republic of Macedonia, serving as the economic, industrial, entertainment and educational focal point for the surrounding municipalities. As of the 2002 census, the Štip municipality alone had a population of about 47,796. Štip is the largest textile production center in the country; Center of the fashion industry in Macedonia, as well as the location of the sole public university in eastern Macedonia, Goce Delčev University of Štip. The city of Štip is the seat of Štip Municipality.
The city is located at the intersection of the Lakavica, Ovče Pole, and Kočani valleys. Two rivers pass through Štip, the Bregalnica which is the second largest in the Republic of Macedonia, and the Otinja which divides the city center. The hill Isar, with its early medieval fortress on top, dominates the city and provides for the common reference as "The city under the Isar'. The area surrounding the city is suffering from deforestation which is contributing to the temperature extremes, summers being hot and dry with mean temperatures around 32 °C (90 °F) and days above 40 °C (104 °F) being common. Winters are short (less than 2 months usually) and mild (though considered cold for the area) with normals around −2 °C (28 °F), but with occasional drops down to −10 °C (14 °F). Spring usually comes in February, when most of the foliage is regenerating, although freak snow storms could appear as late as May.
Esta mañana,
ya no me acordaba
como tocaban mis dedos,
esa guitarra que era para mí,
tu cuerpo.
Ya no me acordaba
lo que sentía,
cuando acariciaba tu pelo.
Ya no me acuerdo...
si tus ojos,
eran marrones,
o negros.
Como la noche,
ó como el día que
dejamos de vernos.
Sólo recuerdo que llovia,
y que quedamos en la parada
del metro.
Pero haciendo un gran esfuerzo,
veo tu mirada en cada espejo
de cada ascensor,
donde cada noche me sube hasta el cielo.
De moteles invernaderos,
donde se jura algo tan efimero.
Ya no me acuerdo...
ni de tu risa,
ni de tu prisa,
por darme un beso.
Ni que boton de tu camisa,
desabrochaba primero,
ni que dulce rumba me bailabas cuando,
querías robarme el sueño.
Dicen que el tiempo,
y el olvido,
son como hermanos gemelos,
que vas echando de mas,
lo que un dia echaste de menos,
yo que culpa tengo,
si... Ya no me acuerdo.
Pero haciendo un gran esfuerzo,
veo tu mirada en cada espejo
de cada ascensor,
donde cada noche
me sube hasta el cielo.
De moteles invernaderos,
donde se jura algo tan efimero,
y tan eterno.
Ya no me acuerdo...