Thursday, July 1, 2021

IRMA KURTI

 


IRMA KURTI

 

Without A Homeland

 

What are you looking for on the shore,

shreds of memories or broken shells?

Seagulls to distant lands have flown,

abandoning thus their only love nest.

 

Just like you, who in a foreign land

tried to build with difficulty a roof.

Although from there, the cold, the rain,

nostalgia, and memories penetrate, too.

 

Nothing has remained, even that door

you opened in the dream of first love.

It was rusty, now it has been replaced

with a more beautiful and modern one. 

 

You’ve changed also, you’re a sky full

of clouds, hard to recognize yourself—

a sensitive soul, very often deluded;

a sad poetess, left without a homeland.

 

 

 

The Same Coin

 

You have leaned on my shoulder

and cried for months and years,

you sprayed my days with poison,

I could never live my own bliss.

 

I understood too late: my life

no, didn’t interest you at all,

my afflictions went in your ear    

and out the other, of course.

 

You forgot the time I dedicated,

around you this world revolved.

If all I did wasn’t worth it,

I’ll use with you the same coin.

 

 

This Love

 

Loves that fade just when they are

born; others that don’t find peace,

this one has a place in my spirit,

it’s immense and infinite.

 

I’ll fight against the cruel world,

on my shoulders I’ll keep the rains,

I’ll struggle against the intrigues,

in the river I’ll throw them.

 

I’ll protect you from the bad looks

and from the people’s false kindness,

now that you are fragile, helpless,

and resemble an innocent child.

 

Loves that fade just when they are

born; others that don’t find peace,

this one has a place in my spirit,

it’s immense and infinite.

 

Dad...

 

 

A Danger

 

We are threatened by a great danger,

it’s not an atomic bomb that destroys

all; it erodes the serenity and peace and

fills it with sadness, removes the words.

 

Loneliness—the lack of affection—

has created a spider’s web in the soul,

while selfishness, vanity, fears,

and prejudices suffocate this world.

 

It’s time to take off all the masks,

those that carry them for a lifetime,

then, the youth who recently use them

learning to live with hypocrisy, thus.

 

We are threatened by a great danger...

 

 

I Remember Nothing

 

My head leaned quietly on your shoulder –

I remember nothing else from that trip,

just like the waves on the edge of sunset,

one by one, all the uncertainties subsided.

 

The sky expelled the clouds, turbulences

vanished with them in a huge white mist;

in the plane, near you, the world improved,

the anxieties stirred and died instantly.

 

My head leaned quietly on your shoulder –

I remember nothing else from that trip.

 

IRMA KURTI

 

IRMA KURTI is an Albanian poetess, writer, lyricist, journalist, and translator naturalized Italian. She has been writing since she was a child. In 1980, she was honored with the first national prize on the 35th anniversary of the Pionieri magazine for her poem “To my homeland”. In 1989, she won the second prize in the National Competition organized by Radio Tirana on the 45th anniversary of the Liberation of Albania. All her books are dedicated to the memory of her beloved parents Hasan Kurti and Sherife Mezini, who supported and encouraged every step of her literary path. Kurti has won numerous literary prizes and awards in Italy and Italian Switzerland. She was awarded the “Universum Donna” International Prize IX Edition 2013 for Literature and the lifetime nomination of “Ambassador of Peace” by the University of Peace of Italian Switzerland. In 2020, she received the title of Honorary President of WikiPoesia, the Encyclopedia of Poetry. In 2021, she was awarded the title “Liria” (Freedom) by the Arbëreshë Community in Italy. Irma Kurti has published 22 books in Albanian and 15 in Italian. Her books have been translated into English, Spanish, French, Rumanian and Serbian. She has written about 150 lyrics for adults and children, including in Italian and English. She lives in Bergamo, Italy.

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