Ετικέτα: poezi shqip

Winter

From today my spirit is a recluse,
And banished is all my joy.
Long has it been that snow has lain
Over mountain and over wood.
Snowflakes come drifting one by one
Down upon the deserted village
And, shivering beneath the snow,
Earth slumbers, buried once again.

Slowly my spirit too sinks to the ground
In mourning, falling like a leaf.
Nary a soul is to be heard,
No people, no sign of life.

In such peace and tranquillity
I hear a bird lament,
Letting out a faint sigh,
Frightened to leave this life.

[Dimër, from the volume Vdekja e nositit, Prishtina: Rilindja 1986, p. 84, translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie, and first published in English in An elusive eagle soars, anthology of modern Albanian poetry, London: Forest Books 1993, p. 5]

And when my memory

And when my fading memory,
Like the after-midnight trams,
Stops only at the main stations,
I will not forget you.

I will remember
That quiet evening, endless in your eyes,
The stifled sob upon my shoulder,
Like snow that cannot be brushed off.

The separation came
And I departed, far from you.
Nothing unusual,
But some night
Someone’s fingers will weave themselves into your hair,
My distant fingers, stretching across the miles.

Poetry

How did you find your way to me?
My mother does not know Albanian well,
She writes letters like Aragon, without commas and periods,
My father roamed the seas in his youth,
But you have come,
Walking down the pavement of my quiet city of stone,
And knocked timidly at the door of my three-storey house,
At Number 16.

There are many things I have loved and hated in life,
For many a problem I have been an ‘open city’,
But anyway…
Like a young man returning home late at night,
Exhausted and broken by his nocturnal wanderings,
Here too am I, returning to you,
Worn out after another escapade.

And you,
Not holding my infidelity against me,
Stroke my hair tenderly,
My last stop,
Poetry.

(Yalta 1959)

The child and us

My child,
Your child,
Our child
Has taken its first steps.

My child,
Your child,
Our child
Has learned to run.

My child,
Your child,
Our child
Has arisen and gone.

We have grown old!

[Fëmija dhe ne, from the volume Vargje të përfolura, Tirana 1994, p. 27. Translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie]

Perfection

God… male
In his tear he created the world.
World… female,
In her pain she reached perfection.

[from the volume Vargje të përfolura, Tirana 1994, p. 3. Translated from the Albanian by Robert Elsie]