JULJANA MEHMETI

JULJANA MEHMETI

THE ONLY SUN

Tired, the gaze is lost in the void

beyond the facades that hide the light

where lighthouses shine in the intersections

the prolonged waiting for the steps of silence

time obscured in twisted visions

dragged in the midnight of the shadows.

Sad gray fogs surround the darkness

Rising suspended between the screams of the wind

I cry with madness for what went away

still hidden in deep memories ...

in the gloomy whitish of the highest ridges

the coldness of a single winter day.

Tired the gaze is lost in the void

of air saturated with absurd forms

chaos dispersed between turbid traces

and cosmic particles become dust.

Tired the day by the traps of destiny

on tips of icebergs that scratch the clouds

between hidden stars, the promise is fading

waiting for the return

of his only sun.

IN HIS LIGHT …

Sounds of eras

In eternal melodies

awaken from visions

of ancient castles,

that reign legendary

in mystic colors

in fluid tones,

in the white alley

where we stretches our arms …

Widespread aromas of musk

and migratory birds fleeing

that fly away …

and they fall

suddenly,

like a silk veil

in a breath of wind,

which opens the door to heaven,

to the refracted prism of the soul …

Cleopatra is wandering through the rooms …

On a pale autumn day

where time breaks down hieroglyphs and codes

reflected in wet walls,

with her image …

Trampling of distant steps

awake sighs

in silent woods,

bare from sins ..

The invisible wanders

in sad drifts

of an incomprehensible world

where the illusion is lost

in the silent space ..

and stops at the threshold of limbo

of a silver mist …

envelops the evening air,

then it climbs up

on the Andromeda armchair

in rooms darkened by night …

and it turn itself off

in his light …

PENUMBRA

On the way to the moon

that the sea enlightens,

I slowly slip with my eyes,

followed by a long white dress,

in the foggy darkness of the night

up to the last border of the waves.

You kidnapped me …

Also this time…

in the mysterious white light …

that appears in the image – space,

as a pale silhouette of hope …

projected …

… somewhere here I am…

me with my darkness

lost in soul storms …

climbing in the bent rays …

I climb …

on beds of stars,

where I leave my sadness …

and you,

wrapped in a black veil of universes,

like a point of light on the horizon,

you shine …

and remote mysteries of existence

you enlighten …

Perhaps we are meteors

in the dark night we burn …

Our Thoughts,

anxious penumbra among invisible borders,

like weak flames of a candle

they swing …

… we go .

Overwhelmed by darkness,

moons of hearts we cover …

***

On the way to the moon

our thoughts slip,

hanging by a thread of hope

until the last of the senses …

Maybe…

we lost in the night,

we’ll follow our shadows …

the only point of hope,

up to the light …

…up to the dawn…

CRUCIFIX TO FORGIVENESS

Looking beyond yourself

looking for sensations

that pulsate sleeping rhythms

breathing the dry air of a hidden sun

in his void,

without knowing what is distressing you,

it is like loosing himself

in the ether

dragged through the clouds of the hermits

and the sarcophagi of the Gods

awakened at the threshold of the day

wet by the murmur of the rain ...

Feeling as a slave of suspended feelings

that turn on and off between the deserted spaces of disappointment

and the crumbled pyramids in the escape of the last pharaoh,

scratched on the walls of memory

mummified in pain

carved in infinite hieroglyphs

sprinkled with the scream of the wind

and blown in centuries of love,

it is like traveling in an abandoned island

where only the sea thunders the echo of the waves

and you, a hermit of pain with your eyes to the sky,

you crucify yourself to forgiveness.

TRANSLATED BY CLAUDIA PICCINO

JULJANA MEHMETI

JULJANA MEHMETI was born in the city of Durres, in Albania. Since she was a child she became fond about literature and writing, especially poetry, a genre that in the following years will turn into a real life motive, a way to better express her ideas, her thoughts, her visions and metaphysics , her point of view according to her consciousness but also improving the awareness of the same suggestion that surrounds the human world. The first book “Soft – Poems” published in Italian language attracted the attention of publishers and Italian literary criticism, not only for its particular style, but also for new words, the language used, the philosophical message and the currents present in her poems that go from Hermetism to Surrealism. The second book comes from the field of translation entitled “Vramendje” – (Rimugino “) of the Italian author Alessandro Ferrucci Marcucci Pinoli, which will constitute the first experience in this field, but will also strengthen his long-standing conviction, to know and translate in his language, many popular Italian authors.. The collection of poems “Oltrepassare” is her new book, which presents itself with the new tendencies of Albanian literature, postmodernism and universal consciousness, from experimental currents to absurdity.

She currently lives and works in Ancona, Italy.