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"
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