Kalendari poetik: Ȧngel Guinda (1948) / Përgatiti materialin Maksim Rakipaj


Kalendari poetik: Ȧngel Guinda (1948)

Sivjet mbush 70 Anhel Ginda, poet dhe përkthyes spanjoll, ja një shqipërim prej tij:


Kur jemi shumë të rinj
jetojmë pa e çarë kryet.

Kur nuk jemi dhe aq të rinj
kuptojmë sa e vështirë është jeta.

Kur fillojmë e plakemi
bëjmë llogaritë për çka kemi jetuar.

Kur më në fund, plakemi
shmangim mendimet për vdekjen.

Dhe kur mjegullohet shikimi
gjithçka qartë çfaqet, më në fund.


© shqipëroi Maksim Rakipaj

Sunil Sharma ( India)

  Sunil Sharma ( India) Sunil Sharma is Mumbai-based senior academic, critic, literary editor and author with 19 published books: Six collections of poetry; two of short fiction; one novel; a critical study of the novel, and, eight joint anthologies on … Continue reading

Poems by Tyran Prizren Spahiu

Poems by Tyran Prizren Spahiu



Devoted Madam- you know that I
in ugly ways, am being grown up,
coffee bars and multiplied bistros
in the politeness of inflated selfishness
towards turbulence of faithful feelings.

Many times I have been washed in the waters of sin
waves of females have accompanied me,
like the storm of desert sand
I breathed the dirty smell of hotels,
again you entered inside my cave
into darkness, fear, treachery, odor.

Blessed Lady,
Sorry I am, but you were wrong
Attempting to soften, the sinner’s ego,
thought, I will write verses for you
my sun will smile
find peace in the room of fate.

flying poured years of life
lure of the past is defeated,
mist continues to deepen into memories
but you are wandering still alone
towards broken streets of life.

Enjoy, Noble Pearl, the Age
knowing You are more than dear to successors,
didn’t know to hold, love you
betrayed as a medieval idiot, it was me
left lonely in cold nights without love
In the solitude waiting the beastly man …


SYRIA, do you hear HEAVEN CRIES!

Don’t think somebody reasonable is there

in this crazy world of hate!

Me, I can not
write about love, fever of lust, nectar of spring nature,
hearth filled with pleasure,
smiling youth in morning coffee,
extendable dining table for dinner …

I can not!
Sleep, tortures me,
uninterruptedly I do see blood,
sweaty, feelings roam, blazing the sky,
due to you, children, pregnant women, elders groan!
Chemical attack, YOUNG LADY IS RAPED
suicide of the Honorary Woman,
damn it, what shall I say to conscience!
your train of Throne has no mercy,

Lucent is hate in your genes,
powerful, ruthless peels innocents!
Not far from your consciousness, poison, murder occues
burning is Syria, see children headless,
limbs separated in two,
weeping soul, feelings shake, air stinks
I do shudder, I pray for you Syria
In ash you are!

Ancient Pearl in blood and fire
gas is burning the descendants,
THEY, they, the death sellers pouring hate accumulated in a dirty politics…
I do pray, please
please no more Force Bombs, Rapes…
….weapon of the Syrian children is The Curse!


Poetja Lola Shehi mbledh fjalët si bleta nektarin nga lulet për t’i vargëzua që të përjetësoj udhët e ndjenjës e të ëmbëlsoj shpirtin e lexuesit / Nga: Safet Hyseni 

Poetja Lola Shehi mbledh fjalët si bleta nektarin nga lulet për t’i vargëzua që të përjetësoj udhët e ndjenjës e të ëmbëlsoj shpirtin e lexuesit.      Nga: Safet Hyseni Është folur shumë dhe është shkruar shumë për poezinë. Dhe … Continue reading