Poem by Tyran Prizren Spahiu
MY SOUL WEEPS !
In that place, the unknown one
even TODAY gathered are spirits,
knowing, are not extinct
trying to come out into the blessed light.
But, I’m still afraid
faded are human feelings,
followed by the winter twilight
weather cries, cold is mortal
dreams of the soul surrounded are.
It’s hard, should be patient
scrimmaged are irony and goodness,
in the still troubled land
fresh is blood, shed by hate.
Many are MISSING, KILLED, RAPED
shadows wander in darkness, seeking justice,
closed ears, perverted eyes
they turn heads, have loose their senses.
Years weigh, pain blazes
children, women, day’s darkness accompanies,
Lost, no one is listening
waiting, feelings even further strengthens.
No more tears, no daily smiles,
embalming years are, hope will not be quenched,
voice of reason will find the mourning of the missing
seeking to rest in the *Arbër land.
Yes, long time are missing
forgot DON’T, in any way,
pain stuck our bodies
lethargy is sinking, from the invited persons …
You and you listen, I am talking to you
stop, remember, yes yes, noises are low,
hear again, are scratching the earth, heavens are roaring
one day, hoping with the Great God’s Will
they will rest in the cemetery for NOBLE people ….
-*Summary name for Albanians in the Middle Ages