Poems by Naime Beqiraj
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1.
Father's Heart I was so sleepless that I stopped breathing I was so winded that my lungs were pounding I was so hurt that my wounds would not heal I was so inspired that the lines were pouring out of me I was so ugly I couldn't compare I was so graceful that my skin glowed I was so grumpy without the sun to cheer me up I was so hot that I couldn't find a river to cool me down I was so lonely that I couldn't find anyone I was so full that there was only room for you I was so tearful that I used up the pieces I was so easy to conquer the lands I was so scared that my nerves were shaking I was combative enough to win the battles I was so tired, thirsty at critical moments I was so disobedient though not hypocritical I was so puzzled that I could not explain I was so dry that my mouth was closing I was so wanted, but not indispensable I was so humble but useless I was so hopeless that my lip was swollen I was so protected that my path was illuminated I was so haunted that I messed up the house I was so determined that I’d lead an army I was so transparent that I couldn't see the thread I was so present that boredom disappeared I was so stiff that I tempered the stone I was so patient that I shadowed the flag I was so lonely, I didn't even want air I was so greedy that I could beat the devil I was so overwhelmed that I could not lift myself I was so open that I was flying with hope I was so bitter that I soiled the ground I was so unknown that I was conquering the world I was so downcast that I couldn't stop crying I was so enthralled that I lost faith I was so immature that I couldn't touch myself I was so big that I couldn't grasp life easily I was so invisible that I could hardly open my eyes I was so restless that I couldn't find a second one I was so scared that I whispered the Bible I was so blessed to have time for the reception I was so hopeless that I couldn't bear the longing I was so earthly, I could defeat the devil in every corner I was such a serpent I couldn't see the end of it I was so mischievous that I shadowed a dove I was so blind that I could see the ocean’s bottom I was so open that I couldn't stop my voice I was so humbled that I was flying apart from creation I was so deep I swam with the dolphin I was so haunted that I could not find a friend in life I was so anointed that I conquered every planet I was so determined that I could hardly take a step I was so lost that I never began running I was so devastated that I destroyed the temples in the summer I was so tuned in that I played piano in the wind I was so down-to-earth that I adapted the gospels to the times I was so winded that I calmed the snow flakes I was so repentant that I shared blessings without limit I was so godly - his love was enough for me 2. The Orphan Bites His Lip 1. The tears of an orphan Carry no cursing When they cover the shadow Not even when they tear down the soil They grab their lip with their teeth And no handkerchief Can dry their tears Except for words of the heart Tears and more tears To shut off the sobbing 2. Too little We were orphans To contain alone As the day wore on Hiding Breaking the tear Not to cry After each other Cold night Scared neck And the kingdom of sleep Like the fate of an orphan Meeting only around mornings 3. An orphan is The open window And the wait Dark pillow Hands under it And the dream Those hands not held By mother From dad neither Consoling floats by itself Floating asleep Realizing that The smaller The orphan the more painfully he grows old He dances alone Laughing teeth No verb inflected Except for the murdered heart Of the hungry eye Few words Little scale An orphan is longing Touchable The smaller He feels the smallness doubles Unable to smell Who loves him in this world As one understands That his hand alone Has no question mark 3. FLEEING I didn't want to get stained by running away Escape darkens the shadow, it's completely colorblind Running away, you won't be able to think, You only know how to run away Fleeing obscures the road, dust is carried after a flight Running trips, it won't even enjoy its own evil Fleeing attains some color, the truth is, there is none other Fleeing, never think that fleeing is strong Fleeing is easy, it won't even honor a horse Running away breaks one’s neck, running breaks one’s soul I grew gray and silent on the day of your departure Fleeing is cold, cold at the beginning of summer Fleeing is blind, it can't look you in your eyes Fleeing has nothing susceptible, white, fleeing is tepid Fleeing is just a path, away from strong wind Fleeing has no heart, only dust Traitors flee, masochists, sadists, anarchists won't flee Fleeing is a cheap thing, not worth the lowest price Fleeing is just running away, you won't even know the wave I didn't want to be discomfited by fleeing Fleeing makes one betray and kill from behind Fleeing won’t save your shoulder, chest or face Fleeing makes one blush as being recessive Fleeing is hell itself, it only remembers your back Fleeing is evil, there is no conquering by running away Fleeing is humiliation, it lies it will ever change you Fleeing does not know the sky, but light affectation Fleeing has no water in the dough, there is only flour in it' I tried not to turn yellow from fleeing Fleeing has no bravery, it won’t even stop Fleeing suddenly turns yellow, it is cowardly Fleeing has nothing of a fighter, fleeing laughs you aloud Fleeing is like poetry "I wished I saw you a fighter" Fleeing brings no news, no indication, no invitation Fleeing happens suddenly, fleeing has no goodbye Fleeing is but running away, there's no future Fleeing is like death, there is no good fleeing Translated by Avni Spahiu 1. ZEMRA E ATIT Isha aq e pagjumur sa më ndalej fryma Isha aq e ajrosur sa më pëlciste mushkëria Isha aq e lënduar sa s’më mbylleshin plagët Isha aq e frymëzuar sa më vërshonin vargjet Isha aq e shëmtuar sa mungonte e krahasuara Isha aq e hirshme sa më ndriste lëkura Isha aq e mërdhirë pa diell që t’më përthëkonte Isha aq e zjarrtë sa s’gjeja lum t’më freskonte Isha aq e vetmuar sa s’gjendej kund një njeri Isha aq e plotënuar sa kishte vend veç për ty Isha aq e përlotur sa i shterroja krojet Isha aq e lehtë sa t’i pushtoja trojet Isha aq e frikësuar sa më dridheshin dejet Isha aq luftarake sa t’i fitoja betejat Isha aq e lodhur, e etur n’çaste kritike Isha aq e pabindur por jo hipokrite Isha aq e mëdyshur sa s’mund të sqaroja Isha aq e përtharë sa më mbyllej goja Isha aq e kërkuar, por jo e domosdoshme Isha aq e përulur por jo e përdorshme Isha aq e pashpresë sa më pëlciste buza Isha aq e mbrojtur sa më dritohej udha Isha aq e përhumbur sa e ngatërroja shtëpinë Isha aq vendosur sa e drejtoja ushtrinë Isha aq e tejdukshme sa nuk më dukej fija Isha aq e pranishme sa zhdukej mërzija Isha aq e sertë sa e gacmoja gurin Isha aq e duruar sa i bëja hije flamurit Isha aq e vetmjaftueshme, s’e doja as ajrin Isha aq e pangopur sa e mundja djallin Isha aq e dërmuar sa nuk e ngrija vetën Isha aq e hapur sa fluturoja me shpresën Isha me aq vrer sa e ndyja tokën Isha aq e panjohur sa e pushtoja botën Isha aq e plandosur sa s’e ndaloja vajtimin Isha aq e magjepsur sa e shpërndaja besimin Isha aq e parritur sa nuk e prekja dot vetën Isha aq vigane sa s’e mbërtheja lehtë jetën Isha aq e padukshme sa nuk i hapja as sytë Isha aq e palodhur sa nuk gjeja një të dytë Isha aq e frikësuar sa e pëshpërisja Biblën Isha aq e bekuar sa kisha kohë për pritjen Isha aq e pashpresë sa nuk e mbaja mallin Isha aq tokësore, n’çdo skutë e mundja djallin Isha aq gjarpërushe sa t’keqes s’i shihja fundin Isha aq e padjallëzuar sa i bëja hije pëllumbit Isha aq e verbër sa e shihja n’fund oqeanin Isha aq e hapur sa nuk e ndalja zânin Isha aq e përulur sa fluturonte veç krijimi Isha aq e thellë sa notoja me delfinin Isha aq e përhumbur sa s’gjeja mik në jetë Isha aq e vajosur sa e pushtoja çdo planet Isha aq e prerë sa nuk e hidhja hapin Isha aq e humbur sa s’e nisja vrapin Isha aq e shkatërruar sa i prishja tempujt n’verë Isha aq e akorduar sa luaja piano në erë Isha aq e përtokë sa i përshtatja ungjinjtë kohës Isha aq e ajrosur sa i qetësoja flokët borës Isha aq e penduar sa ndaja bekime pa kufi Isha aq e perëndishme - më mjaftonte dashuria e tij 2. JETIMI E KAFSHON BUZËN 1. Lotët e jetimit Nuk përveshin mallkim Kur e mbulojnë hijen As kur e shembin dheun E kapin buzën me dhëmb E asnjë faculetë Nuk ua than lotët Veç ndonjë fjalë zemre Lot e m’lot Ta fik ngashërimin 2. Fort të vegjël Ne ishim jetima Për tu përmbath të vetëm Kur dita qëndisej Duke u fshehur Thyerjen e lotit Të mos qanim Pas njëri-tjetrit Nata e ftoftë Qafa e trembur E mbretëria e gjumit Si fati i jetimit Takuar veç rreth mëngjeseve 3. Jetimi është Dritarja e hapur Dhe pritja Jasteku i errët Duart nën të E ëndërra Ato duar që nuk mbahen Prej nënës As prej babës Ngushllimi noton vetë Noton më i fjetur Kur e kupton se Sa më i vogël Jetimi moshohet dhimbshëm Ai vallëzon i përvajur Të qeshurës së dhëmbëve Nuk u zbërthehej asnjë folje Pos zemrës së vrarë E syrit të uritur Pak fjalë E pak shkallë Jetimi është përmalli I prekshëm Sa më i vogël Vogëlinë e ndjen dyfish Pa mund të nuhas Kush e don në këtë botë Kur e kupton Se veç dora e tij Nuk ka pikëpyetje 3. ME IK Nuk deshta me u përzez’ me ikjen Ikja e nxin hijen, âsht krejt daltoniste Ikja nuk din me fol, s’din me mendu, din veç me ik Ikja e përhit’ rrugën, pluhur çohet mbas ikjes Ikja merr n’thu, nuk e shijon mirë as t’keqen e vet Ikja ka do ngjyra, e vërteta âsht nji, nuk ka tjetër Ikja, mos mendo që âsht e fortë ikja Ikja âsht e le’të, nuk i ban nder as kalit Ikja ta then qafën, ta then shpirtin ikja U përbardha tuj hesht mbi kurmin e ikjes tânde Ikja âsht e ftoftë, e ftoftë n’fillim t’ver’s Ikja âsht e vërb’t, nuk mundet me t’kqyr n’sy Ikja s’ka gjâ t’ndishme, t’bardhë, âsht e vok’t ikja Ikja âsht veç shteg, larg er’s s’fortë Ikja nuk ka zemër, ka vetëm pluhun Ikin tradhëtar’t, mazohistat, sadistat, anarkistat nuk ikin Ikja âsht gjâ e lirë, s’e ka as ma t’ultin çmim Ikja âsht veç ikje, nuk e njeh as dallgën Nuk deshta me u përskuq me ikjen Ikja t’bân me tradhëtu e me vrâ mbas krahu Ikja nuk ta run gjyksin, krahnorin as f’tyrën Ikja t’ban me u skuq n’vend t’ik’sit Ikja âsht vet dreqi, ta mban mend veç shpinën Ikja âsht e ligë, s’ka pushtim ikja Ikja t’në’përskuq, rren se t’ndryshon Ikja nuk e njeh qiellin, veç dritën e shtimun Ikja nuk ka ujë n’brum, ka veç miell me tej’ U mundova mos me u përverdh prej ikjes Ikja s’ka trimini, nuk din as me u ndal Ikja paprit t’zverdh, âsht vet frikacake Ikja s’ka gjâ luft’tar’sh, ikja t’kesh me zor Ikja âsht si poezia “Kam dasht me t’pa luft’tar” Ikja nuk ka kumt, nuk tregon, nuk ka ftesë Ikja ndodh paprit, nuk ka ikja - tung Ikja rend e rend, nuk ka ardhm’ni Ikja âsht si vdekja, nuk ka ikje t’mirë |
Naime Beqiraj was born in Peja (Kosovo), where she finished her primary and high school. She finished her studies on Albanian Literature at the University of Prishtina, including her Master's degree and PhD. She also completed her studies at the "Iliria" Bible School. She is author of three books of poetry: "Mbi Siparunt" (“Over and Above” - 1990), "Maket Kosove” (A Kosovo Pattern" - 2000) and "Njomja e fikut" (“Soaking the Fig - 2009). She has been presented in several Albanian and world anthologies of poetry in English, Italian, Polish, Macedonian, Chinese, Dutch, Mauritanian, etc., while her collection of poems in the Bulgarian language was published by the Public University of Sofia (2020). Furthermore, she is the recipient of several local and international literary prizes. The author is involved in journalism (texts on art and culture, interviews and reports), while she is now lecturing at several colleges in Kosovo. She lives and works in Prishtina and she is directore library of Prishtina.
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