Sinan Vaka was born in Përmet in 1956. He is a poet, writer and translator of Italian language. From 1993 to 2008 he lived in the province of Cremona, Italy, where he was also the winner of the First Prize “A Lodi vecchio”. The poet and translator Sinan Vaka wanders through the labyrinths of a bright literary age, has wandered and revived through their lighthearted, melted and indexed with the art and the magic brought about and with full consciousness and the weight of intellectual conscience gave the phonetics of his letters to the widest discernment and the reverberation of his poetry.
He is the author of literary works:
1. Nostalgia of the Southeast.
2. Abandoned Road
3. Anthology of Italian Poetry (translation)
We were the latest in line when God shaped us with mud.
He knew our selfishness before creating us,
that we demand more of what we have.
And only when we look at our loss when coming near depression
We are remembered as cunning
to clarify who we are.
It happens often to me that midnight closes my paths for the snow to descend in my thoughts silently.
I don’t feel alive when I’m asleep,
insensitive as a life that’s weakened.
Only you, shiny star, keep me alive with the illusion of teasing.
Ah! after midnight dreams
I am aware that I’ll leave one day…,
but God, why do I feel cold between sheets
When I remember love?!.
The Woman in My Dream
I had the vision of a woman in my dream
with gray hair, as winter approached,
she yelled at me and I had a nightmare in my heart
I was whispering
“She’s talking to me, or she’s not talking to me?”
Something is stored in the memory even if it’s sad,
something that starts questioning
and it ends with the saying,
something that reminds us of our fragile childhood,
for even after death it’s a mother’s advice.
Translated into English by Ana Toma (Albania – USA)