I’m not begging you! The ardor of love; It’s extinguished; You left when I needed you

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Flora Peci was born in Mitrovica, Kosovo, where she finished elementary school and high school education. She continued her studies at the Faculty of Philosophy, Branch – Albanian language and literature. From the years 1989-90, when she was not accepted with Serbian curricula, she worked illegally in the preparation of Albanian curricula and also prepared knowledge quizzes, even in the most remote mountain villages, just to keep Albanian education alive. After the war, she realized that she had been on the list for liquidation by the Serbian forces, but luckily it didn’t happen. She is also a member of the German board in the NGO “DIAKONIE CENTER” in Mitrovica. She works and acts in her hometown. She is also an actress, played the role of a teacher in the movie “SHOK” which was nominated for the OSCAR award. She wrote in prose, poetry and has two books of aphorisms. She is the winner of many awards during literary activities. She lives and works as a professor of the Albanian language at the “Elena Gjika” school in Mitrovica. Her works include: “Kosova of the silent towers”  (Poem), “My lyrical soul in the second person” (Poem), “Paths of life” (Poem), “Free thoughts” (Aphorisms), “With aphorisms through time”(Aphorisms), “Twin mirrors” (Novel), “Twin souls in the mirror” (Novel), “On the lawn of dreams” (Poem). “Glaciers” (Poetry), “The last witness” (Novel), and Captivated by thoughts” (Poetry).

I’M NOT BEGGING YOU

I’m not begging you

The ardor of love

It’s extinguished

You left when I needed you

Goodbye when you need me

No, go now, no regrets

Sins are doubled

Mistakes are repeated

You don’t change your fur

I’m not begging you.

***

THE PROMISES OF THE DREAM

When twilight chains my feelings

My soul becomes a volcanic lava

The challenge comes and weakens

Life crap

How merciless you were!

All I wanted

You turned them off, took them away

At least leave me the dream

That’s where hope shines

I will wait for the morning

With the promise of the dream.

***

YOU…

You are not the trunk,

I am not your bud either

You are not the future of my hopes…

I quietly escaped from your trunk

I have dusted the memories of you

The leaves fell to the ground, turned yellow

You were ruined, trunk without buds!

***

NOSTALGIA

How often do I sail?

I fly with thoughts

In my childhood.

Sweet, no worries

With sugared bread

From the mother

With mischievous children’s games

I get into my grandmother’s fairy tales

Walk through grandfather’s stories.

How pleasantly I tread the dusty road

How I love mother’s scolding

For the muddy dress…

How nostalgic I feel for that time

While I live in this world

Mischief and interest

Words I didn’t know then.

__________________

Published under International Cooperation with "Sindh Courier"