The Timeless Time
My favorite café
is near the Cathedral
There I listen
to the church bells ringing
and the sights
of the past
Hustling people
do not have time to count psalms
They simply take
visual photos,
Carrying with
them, memories of a legend they don’t know
Never learning
anything about soulful prayers
Again and again,
I sit there
The same plaza
with thousands of sculptures
With
Legionnaires donning medieval cloak
Effigies that
evaporate in the coffee steam.
Maybe it is the
accumulated despair
Of the
generation’s sacrifice and the whip of punishment
But all have
that relentless gaze
The same way as
the apostles,
who were born
and passed away.
My coffee is
very simple
A table and two
chairs
In one of them
sits my absence
A gaze that
absorbs the heavens is seated in the other
And like this,
in our worldwide travel
Maybe coming
from the monastic past
A forest of
people gathered around “the cross of fate
And a time of
murmurs that fills in“ the cathedral.
I Am Coming
Tomorrow, Certainly…!
I am coming
tomorrow, certainly…!
As soon as
sunset will show at the skyline
And the first
twilight reaches for the city, arm wide
When the sun
makes way for the stars
And we start
talking about another world
The one where
sky and earth are kissing
And the belches
savour a sea.
I am coming
tomorrow, certainly… !
Like I used to
come, to the meadows where spring was greening
No tears
anymore, meddling with the autumn rains together
Because they
dissolve me … and carry me away like the leaves.
I am coming
tomorrow, certainly…!
In My
Secrecies
In my secrecies
Everything flows
like a tumultuous river
Downpour of
autumn rains
Sliding and
crushing
And then a white
wave
That resembles
the rippling of a divine beauty
The muse’s
nickering with curls flying to wind
Wet from the
tears of clouds
And ripped, sky
on the yellow carpet of the season.
In my secrecies
In everyday
chaos the curtains of the soul are raised
The turbid
waters dance
Like a belch
disturbing the silent scenery
In the last
instance of purity
Arrives to wake
up the moment of solitude
And gone, to the
shores without mercy.
In my secrecies
there is a world
There is a color
too
The color of the
sunset behind the skylines
The color of
birds forgotten in migration..
Translated Into English By Merita Paparisto
AGRON SHELE
AGRON SHELE: (Albania – Belgium) He
was born in October 7th, 1972, in the Village of Leskaj, city of Permet,
Albania. Is the author of the following literary works: “The Steps of Clara”
(Novel), “Beyond a grey curtain” (Novel), “Wrong Image” (Novel) , “Innocent
Passage” (Poetry), Whiste stones ( poetry) RIME SPARSE -Il suono di due voci
poetiche del Mediterraneo (Poesie di Agron Shele e Claudia Piccinno), La mia
Musa (“Libri di-versi in diversi libri” – Italy, 2020); murmure d’ un autre
monde (poetry), “Ese-I and Ese-II) ” . Mr. Shele is also the coordinator of
International Anthologies: “Open Lane- 1,” “Pegasiada , Open Lane- 2 , ATUNIS
magazine ( Nr 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 )” and Atunis Galaxy Antholgy 2018, 2019,
2020, 2021, 2022, 2023. He is winner of some international literary prizes. Is
a member of the Albanian Association of Writers, member of the World Writers
Association, in Ohio, United States, Poetas del Mundo, WPS, Unione world Poetry
and the President of the International Poetical Galaxy “Atunis”. He is
published in many newspapers, national and international magazines, as well as
published in many global anthologies: Almanac 2008, 2017; World Poetry Yearbook
2009, 2013, 2015, The Second Genesis -2013, Kibatek 2015-Italy, Metafora
(Poland), Keleno- Greece, etc. Currently Resides in Belgium and continues to
dedicate his time and efforts in publishing literary works with universal
values.
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