DRITA LUSHI

DRITA LUSHI

I’M LEAVING TO YOU THIS POETRY

ON THE TABLE

When you are not there,

I come and sit on your armchair;

I touch the dispersed letters

The books left open…

A mess I got used to love…

Ah, it seems you forgot also today to take

your glasses…

I put my fingers on yours,

On the buttons where you form so nice words,

Or which not rarely tire you,

As you join the letters to bring out there

spirit (soul) and longing (nostalgia)..!

I feel myself you for a moment..

As I make you myself;

I close my eyes to imagine the coming…

And suddenly,

I run to the window to look at the street,

And you really show up…

I laugh…

I laugh…at my premonitions…

As true, as the truth

Of my feeling for You

Ah…

I love you also in absence,

Loving everything you touch;

And when you show up…

I feel double in love…!

I have few words…

And these I’ve never said to you…

Not even now…

Simply, I’m leaving to you on the table…

This poetry…

TO LOVE A WOMAN

It’s not easy to love a woman,

To grant her words of eyes and kisses;

Fondling of the moon, comets and suns

To lay them down in hands.`

You should know to love a woman!

To get an oasis in the middle of a desert,

An oasis that dyes blue (only for you)

a land of love.

It takes guts to love a woman!

To find ways and paths (untrodden)

to conquer

golden banks (shores).

You should know to keep a woman

‘cause she’s put her heart into your hands,

More than it – her love,

You should know, to know then…

 AN EVENING LETTER FOR YOU…

Good evening!

Today is Wednesday!

Do you remember?

We never met on a day like this.

But, while the twilight was casting its first veil

In this confused Albanian metropole

I had to pass along the bar-café “F.V”

Where we used to meet before,

And unwillingly, I held (kept) the steps;

I climbed those few stairs,

Two by two, and I found myself unexpectedly            there…!

The table where we used to sit, was empty.

On it,

hundreds of words we said seemed to dance.

Only you and I were missing opposite each

other.

The waiter, was the same slim boy,

(perhaps a little older)

who used to bring us whisky immediately,

as soon as he would see us at the door…

I leave, going down the stairs one by one

slowly,      ngadalë,

And while I am outside,

The twilight covers me, as if to protect

from curious eyes

While on my shoulders…

On my shoulders thousands of words,

We did not say anyway, burden me…

…

Ah!

I have remained the same romantic woman

Who still believes in love,

Though we live in the twenty-first century.

Maybe, I am a little stronger, because I

have started,

jeering the pain in the eyes,

though, I still write verses for you.

I would like to close my eyes for a moment,

And express a wish…

but,

I am closing this letter therewith…!

Good night!

SYMPHONY OF STARS

I did not know that also the night, with its

silence,

Produced these so rare sounds.

Well then listen…

Listen like I do;

Apart from crickets on this spring evening,

A music is heard, and a river also flows,

An accordion in the lips of the night,

Reminds me that also the stars make a noise.

They look at each other, face each other,

push each other,

Then, they watch the moon frontally,

surround it,

And want to draw its attention.

Like boys they play the dance of heaven,

Snap (crack) with shiny rhythms their feet,

Completely like dancers of old times,

Who were born out of the stomach of

Bing-Bang.

I didn’t know the night was so noisy, I didn’t…

Tonight, I saw and heard the symphony of      Son

And the moon, conducted with a face of

a woman.

PAST (GONE)

Whenever you told me you loved me,

I became the whole a heart within you

I became a flowing (fluid) love

Through your veins,

And you, you dawned the nights,

You wrote verses about me!

Then you would tell me:

“love makes all the people write poetry”.

But no poet in the world, could love like

you did;

While I,

adored you silently, never saying to you

“I love you”

But you, you could read every hair in me,

You could read every cell of my epidermis!

And every move of the lips.

Whereas to me was sufficient the look…

Whenever we looked each other in the eyes,

They would take the same colour.

DRITA LUSHI

( Albania)

DRITA LUSHI : The writer was born in the city of Librazhd, where she attended the lessons until the secondary school in order to continue then her studies at the Medical University in Tirana, where she got graduated in Pharmaceutics. She started writing her first verses since her childhood in order to continue in the secondary school with essays and compositions in lessons. After building up her family, she dedicated herself again to her passion coming out in 2012 with her poetry book "DREAM", in 2013 she published (brought) her book of short stories "LOVE BLOOMS IN APRIL" for which she won the first prize by the magazine "OBELISK", and in 2014 the poetry book "FLIRT", which were evaluated also by the well-known names of Albanian literature. She publishes regularly in the written Albanian press essays, critical notices, reports, interviews with different personalities, etc. She is in the process of publishing of two new books