During Christmas’ month, I WISH TALK TO YOU JESUS … / By: Susana Roberts

During Christmas’ month, I WISH TALK TO YOU JESUS …
Good morning! my great lord of the prairies, I speak to you in December, I do it every day when I wake up and in every December when I join you with my words. It is known that you were born this month in a manger far away in Bethlehem and a great star appeared in the sky; today the situation is repeated again, yes, at the end of this very hard 2020, and I can guess the believers will be asking you for wishes.
How to explain to you! that this is a very special month due to the origin, the birth of many of my relationships and relatives, and although ancient chronicles doubt of your existence- Islam names you with great vehemence, respect, and in other places too- Claudio Josephus does not name you, and I know that you are the alpha and the omega. What matters really, is your mandate here on earth when you talk about joining different prayers to the same God, I know, you still get angry in the temples, you don’t trust the power and the tributary thieves. About the injustice we feel the same, I love loyalty and I detest betrayals, although, knock after knock, you have helped me to understand the attitude of the “enemy-friend”, it was the only way to discover who I am and why I feel what I feel even if I have to turn the other cheek.
I believe that your great internal fire led you to a rebellion with the necessary urgent ideals of the spirit to spread awareness of who we really are and your suffering was the only way that mortals understood that we are equal and we are brothers. My mother used to say: Jesus was a great politician, and I used look at her in completely amazement, I felt that for some reasons, I thought she was lying to me or was unaware of the light. The same light I saw during my childhood behind the stained glass windows ,through her ñandutí cloak when she kneeling in a church, and although the gospels were read on repetition with an air of sleep and weariness, I loved the psalms. Although they were written long after your existence, I trust in your energy, your light and your guidance. We are all energy, the hug, the kiss is energy, and we missed a lot this time of social isolation. It was a hard test my Jesus and it can help to know after the great pandemic, who to hug, understand and help, although, I believe we will continue to make mistakes and that is why so many things continue to happen to us. We have to learn to connect with the understanding and compassion, I think that, I believe that we emerge from the great universal source, place where we will return when the energy finish, and we are aware of it. I also think that your miracles came from there, from the wise energy that is born from your good actions and thoughts. You great teacher of all ages! you understood the minds of people, you loved their origin and expected the result that is lying in the change, placed at the origin of faith. This year I felt that the waters suddenly opened and you walked over them, like you did in the Sea of Galilee in Tiberias … and like today, from Mount Hermon came the storms that raised great waves and you calmed their fury, Matthew said in 8 : 23-26. One day, thanks to the prevailing destiny in my fire and the ideals of my aquarium, I stepped on those waters and I felt your forces ascend through my feet and there, in that place were my brothers-sisters, the creators of words in the perfect framework of your Art, the art that does not lie, never does it because it is born from the depths of the being, and there behind us, still is the mountain, the same scenario, with the light, your life rose, … and for centuries we were undressed in prayers, those that rise again during this time, this change of era, of free ideals and a rebirth, always, with your hand.
JESUS – Yeshua HaMashiach (IN HEBREW)
My Lord, I am sitting here
in front of the sphere
to bear witness
with the skin of the word
And win, if I can
Between people
the dark power gaps and paranoia
In these times
the lungs of the earth
are drown and there are craftsmen
getting others benefits
you, Yeshua
my sweet, wheat love
you have given me to drink when I was thirsty
to eat when I was hungry
and in silence we speak
so many Christmases
if you can glance
to people, who
invents terror on a large scale
and the diamond water is no longer
there are children
who calculate their universe
in the big computer
and love is robotized
robbing its source
the purity of light
there are no more time
to contemplate the sky
and look for you among galaxies
with so many millions of poor
brothers of this world
pieces of my blood
who suffer and I love so much
today I believe in you Yeshua
as the celestial warrior
ordinary man of the city
destined to draw from the human being
their sorrows and their glories
forever and ever
today, I want to write for you
protests to the bishop
and draw routes
of soft strength
to sing with you
encrypted words to the wind
where atoms blink
endorsing your parables.

copyright-Susana Roberts

Dashamir Malo përfaqëson Shqipërinë në Festivalin Ndërkombëtar Poetik Patër (Greqi) 2020 – 3rd Patras World Poetry Festival

Dashamir Malo përfaqëson Shqipërinë në Festivalin Ndërkombëtar Poetik Patër (Greqi) 2020.
3rd Patras World Poetry Festival
Prej datës 10 deri më 13 dhjetor 2020, në qytetin e Patrës, Greqi, u mbajt Festivali Ndërkombëtar i Poezisë. Ky Festival për të tretin vit radhazi organizohet nga Lidhja e Poetëve të Patrës me Kryetar poetin dhe publicistin Antonis Skiathas. Kjo Lidhje bashkëpunon me Lidhjen e Shkrimtarëve të Greqisë, me institucione të kulturës dhe Uviversitete të Greqisë Perëndimore. Në këtë Festival, cili aktualisht është nga më të rëndësishmit në Greqi, morën pjesë 60 poetë nga Greqia dhe nga vende të ndryshme të botës. Ky Festival mbështetet nga Ministria e Kulturës greke dhe nga Instutucione të tjera kulturore jashtë Greqisë.
Shqipëria në këtë Festival u prëfaqësua nga poeti Dashamir Malo.
Poezi nga Dashamir Malo, Albania
gjoni e nisi këngën e tij të vjetër
mbi një lis
tani që mbrëmja e vagullt po bie
nata sjell me vete një paqe të rreme
teksa vështron me sytë e të pabesit
dhe dëgjon me veshët e hajdutit
si mahmurr rri atje tej
mali plak
me një qiell të shpërfytyruar
mbi krye
dhe një hënë
që veten ha nga pikëllimi
kjo natë
që përbujt ankthin
i treti udhët tona në errësirë
një çarëaf të grisur reje
si një flamur pas një betejë të humbur
e tund era e tërbuar e janarit …
kalon dikush
apo shiu këmbëzbathur qëmëton
nëpër gjethurina?!
shëët hesht!
dikush kalon…
po edhe në kaloftë
udhëhumbur do të jetë
…do do të thotë
të zgjohesh pa aguar mirë dita
madje dita të jesh ti vetë
do të thotë
të kesh parë ëndrrën më të bukur
madje endrra te jesh ti vete
do të thotë
që pasi të çohesh nga çarçafët e butë
(çarçafët do të ruajnë format e tua deri në mbrëmje)
të shkosh të vështrohesh në pasqyrë
pa pasur atë frikën që kanë femrat
dhe të jesh më e bukur se mëngjesin e shkuar
do të thotë
të qëndrosh para garderobës
dhe pa pike dileme të veshesh
fustanin më të zakonshëm
do të thotë
të të shoqërojë përherë një shpengim dhe hutim
i brishte
të dalësh nxitimthi nga shtëpia
pa vënë re këshillat rutinore të nënës
tek flet që prej kuzhinës
të jesh e dashuruar
do të thotë
t’u dhurosh monedha gëzimi
edhe kalimtarëve të rastit
të shpërndash një rrezatim ndjellës
të shugatësh flakët e xhelozizë së koleges
në zyrën përballë
të jesh e dashuruar
do të thotë
që e gjithë bota të jetë e jotja
por pa kërkuar kurrë ta zotërosh atë
të jesh e dashuruar
The Owl
The owl, perched on an oak
starts his old song
now that the vague sunset is coming
the night brings a fake peace
the night watches with wicked eyes
the night listens with the thief’s ears
The old sleepy mountain
Rests there
With a disfigured sky
On top of it’s head
The moon in the dark sky
Grieves as it eats itself
This night that embraces anxiety
Dissolved our paths in the darkness
The wild January wind
Waves a torn blanket of clouds
Like a flag after a lost battle.
Hush, don’t say a word
Someone is passing by
Or is the barefoot rain dripping
On the foliage
Shhhhhh, quiet!
Someone is passing by
But even if there is someone,
It might be a passenger that’s lost his way.
To be in love
… means
waking up before the dawn
Even to become the dawn itself
It means
seeing the most beautiful dream
Even to become that dream itself
It means
After you leave the soft sheets
( they will hold your body print until the night comes)
You would go see yourself in the mirror
Without the usual fear of a woman
And become sure that you are even more beautiful
than yesterday
It means
standing in front of your closet and without hesitation
picking up the most ordinary dress
It means
A fragile redemption and bewilderment escorting you
You go hurriedly on to the street without paying any attention
To the routine advices of your mother
That talks to you from the kitchen window
Being in love
Donating coins of happiness to the occasional transient
Radiating a seductive light
Igniting the jealous flame
Of the nearby colleague
Beingin love
That you feel like the whole world is yours
Without ever asking to possess it.
To be in love.
Ο γκιώνης άρχισε το παλιό του τραγούδι
Πάνω σ’ ένα δέντρο.
Κι ενώ το βράδυ έρχεται οκνό,
Η νύχτα πάει να σε πλανέψει με την ειρήνη της,
Καθώς κοιτάζει με τα μάτια του φονιά
Κι ακούει με τα αυτιά του ληστή.
Σαν γέρος νυσταγμένος στέκει
Εκεί πέρα το βουνό
Με έναν παραμορφωμένο ουρανό
Από πάνω του
Και με ένα φεγγάρι θλιμένο,
Τούτη την αγχωμένη νύχτα,
Σκοτείνιασε τους δρόμους μας.
Ένα σχισμένο σεντόνι σύγνεφου
Σαν μια σημαία μετά από βαριά ήττα
Το ανεμίζει ο άγριος Γενάρης…
Κάποιος διαβαίνει
Ή μήπως η ξυπόλητη βροχή
Ψάχνει μέσα στις φυλλωσιές;
Κάποιος περνάει.
Μα κι αν περνάει
Σίγουρα, θα ’χει χάσει το δρόμο.
να ξυπνήσεις πριν έλθει η αυγή
μάλλον, εσύ η ίδια να είσαι η αυγή
να έχεις δει το πιο ωραίο όνειρο
μάλλον, εσύ η ίδια να είσαι το όνειρο
αφού σηκωθείς απ’ τα σεντόνια τ’ απαλά
(τα σεντόνια θα διατηρούν τη δική σου μορφή εως το βράδυ)
να πηγαίνεις να κοιταχτείς στον καθρέφτη
χωρίς το φόβο που συνοδεύει συνήθως τα κορίτσια
και να είσαι πιο όμορφη από την προηγούμενη ημέρα
να σταθείς μπρος στην ιματιοθήκη
και χωρίς κανένα δίλημμα να φορέσεις
την πιο συνηθισμένη φούστα
να νιώθεις πάντα ελεύθερη και ταραγμένη
βιαστική να βγαίνεις απ’ το σπίτι
χωρίς να προσέχεις τις στερεότυπες
συμβουλές της μητέρας
όπου σου μιλάει απ’ την κουζίνα
να είσαι ερωτευμένη
να δωρίζεις νομίσματα χαράς
και στους τυχαίους περαστικούς
να σκορπίζεις αχτίνες μαυλιστικές
τις φλόγες της ζήλιας να σβήνεις της συναδέλφου
στο απέναντι γραφείο
να είσαι ερωτευμένη
ώστε όλος ο κόσμος να είναι δικός σου
χωρίς να ζητήσεις ποτέ να τον κυριεύσεις
να είσαι ερωτευμένη


Dashamir Malo