Poems by Agron Shele / Translated by Peter Tase

Poems by Agron Shele
 
 
TO THE GATE OF ORACLES
 
A breath has come from a distant whisper
and a ray that descends through the lights of attractive mornings
it is the very first bar of light ,
hidden behind the clouds ascended above
Navigating through spaces that are felt by wings
and descends in the frontiers of a mind amid the clarity named hope
depicted through organs that swallow every sound and color
of the worldly, where we are almost lost.
 
As a suffering letter escaping from the erosion of time
we depict our invisibility
and are excited about items gone and identify us today
the solair creek , of that sun ray turned into broken pieces
mirrored again tomorrow
and other explorations
will break the succumbed era,
as a symbol and fiery desire
to remain
as a trace of that life were a roving echo
will eulogize again the ancient land.
 
And when the largest gate of freedom
opened through gods and oracles standing above,
would convince the heart, that everything passes through angels that cross
through universe
then all source will be revived
and soul
into fire and shivering
would be the only brightness that will shine the world .
 
 
 
GOD
 
Every time we see the darkness of colours
and gorgeous become unsurpassed abysses
a simple eye returns towards you,
to you God,
and piety of hands of human weakness of its own shivering
from the peaks of sky were your throne has risen
and pray
for the light of salvation,
while forgetting that fait hand their are nearby the heart
and branches of generations reaching up to you,
hidden roots
fractured desires
daily deaths in every instant
and awakening with first sunrise
to push the wheel of world forward.
to bring a soul that is delighted
and grabs another one in order to return into a sand and elaborate the image.
 
Bells are sounding more often these times
And attention focused towards her sounds, echoes of abandoned streets for much time
eternal music that goes through the summit covered by angels
spread into genres, that inserts deeper into the niches of memory
and thoughts are erupting our senseless acts,
moving on a chandelier that brightens the wounds of a wrinkled moon
to show that mysterious travel
departed towards the gates of marble
and looking upon turns that gated windows from other world
 
Someone is calling in this pat hand turbulence
You name it: absolute, light, sorrow or silence
but he will scream again,
because the stained creature has placed him in danger
heavily without any hope, without a light, without a soul
and suddenly today returned has face towards him,
to gather the blessing and forget it tomorrow,
while God is ascending with his nails and struggling
towards the divine justice
towards the limits of our fragile flesh
where everybody is a dust lost in the winds
and every life is a relinquishing of a blessed breath.
 
 
 
TOGETHER WITH THE WIND
 
… why are you hiding from the sky’ s blue
the god will descend again
will follow that light in the last floor
and will get drunk from his muse,
lira will fill in musical chords
all sub floors and
the soul knows, as a soul dodging while flying
you will turn the world crazy as always.
 
The a scream will become a windy echo
and will follow into ether
the shadows of an insect drawn into a nymph
that turns around seven seas,
and when the white wave would relax in the shore
were gods are stepping
a red beauty will rise atop the wings
and will shine the whole life.
 
Not a pen, nor ink, not a pencil cannot describe
the one turned on and extinguished
as you destined fates and turned off wars
just like a Hellenist,
and the wings are open through the gates of sun
were you always opened a door
fort he one that came just like the last God
and was lost together with wind.
 
 
 
Translated by Peter Tase

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