Monday, August 1, 2016


Irsa Ruçi

One day I’ll forgive anyone who wanted to give me sadness
Only with laughter
And the misery force while feeling
While people find at me
The self they never found.

Only the aging beings from their own consciousness
While they vomit the hatred at other
Given that their selfishness suffocates them in rancour:
The evil has the form the spirit that comes!

One day I’ll turn words in prayers
That hearts full of envy,
To cultivate them with love.
© Irsa Ruçi    (Translated by Silva Daci)


I free myself like the air when grabs the waves
I breathe beyond my peace, in the secret solitude of spirit
Look to not be lost in the street of the heart.

I always seek the light’s fountain
In the magic of a smile
Or in the brilliance of the tears in the eyes
In the wave, through the whisper of the leafs
Beyond the music of the nightingales…

I always found the fountain of life
In the kindness of words, in the love’s stone road
Because I am not afraid from the divine feelings
I am a book that you need the capability to understand
To read quietly,
And there’s no more magical moment
While eyes are suffocated in the soul…

I live,
I love,
I dream,
Beyond every time
I create poetically in the threshold of wishes
When I close my eyes I nap sheltered in my universe
Because I am “Irsa in the wonderland”.
© Irsa Ruçi    (Translated by Silva Daci)


Names written like absence, time is left with no remembrance
The future is like an infant, dandled in dreams
With the taste of the past
That often frightens after cries in the sleep.

No more rain from the skies, pains are raining
The rain falls from the eyes
Suffocated in loneliness, in the denial form
Rebelled for the light that for so long
We see it

Streets are empty path of events
The aging steps weigh more,
Than nothingness, in bare footedness
Prophecies read in the palm of the hand
Like suffering is read in wrinkles…

Epochs who give birth to dessert, nothing to remember
Despite the formless noise
Like the scream within a room
No objects
That echoes
Till the repetition of itself…

Then there is silence;
Silence that weighs more than any word.
© Irsa Ruçi    (Translated by Silva Daci)

Shshshttt... Listen to the sparrows
Knitting plans behind the wings
And ask yourself
If the words are enough
To build a city of gossips
Under the sparrow's songs...

Come now, return from pain
That with courage you build it in days, and every day
While it tears down like sandy castles
In the nights
When you shed in tears
Freezes the hurricanes;
But enough already:
Even slavery is drunkenness!

Spy a little on the silence
While is speaking
And tell me:
How many were killed by the despicable silence of hers
When none of us bothered
To look for answers?
Meaning takes form only in subconscious.

A drop of liquor let's have today
Till the end
For the end of the two-facets
That don't know end
And let's sing together,
Sing with us
The sparrow's song...!
© Irsa Ruçi              (Translated by Silva Daci)


In the field where his mother laboured
He paced each day
Every time he faced the sun, said his prayers
Looking into her eyes;
His sister came after, playing
With her brother’s longing
Reciting with infant words
And the three of them smiled; …smiled
With the voice of time echoing
Their path
… A path filled with light!

He bowed to receive his mother’s blessing
Feeling the wrinkles in his mother’s hands
On his soft hair
And on his manly forehead raised by her kisses…

He sensed the scent of the earth just like his mother’s
That’s why he laid every evening under a tree
With the sun in his soul, singing to life…
(Translated by Silva Daci)

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