The horses cry, the horses cry 
Tears slipping onto the grass
The horses cry for the people 
Who have forgotten how to cry!
Arben Iliazi, a renowned poet from Albania, shares his poems

Arben Iliazi, born on March 1, 1963 in Saranda (Albania), graduated from the Faculty of Philology in Tirana in 1988. Until 1991, he worked as a screenwriter and then dedicated himself to journalism, serving as a journalist and editor-in-chief for several daily newspapers in the capital. He is known as a poet, essayist, and playwright. He is author of several poetic volumes, essays and stage dramas.

A view of Saranda, Albania
THE HORSES CRY…
The horses cry, the horses cry 
All the horses cry…
The horses cry, the only ones 
For whom love hurts like a wound
The horses cry, the horses cry 
Tears slipping onto the grass
The horses cry for the people 
Who have forgotten how to cry!
***
I SEEK THE COVE…
I seek the cove that I never found, 
A wave shakes the storm of droplets. 
I must love, without a doubt, 
The squeaks that seagulls have left… 
Everything around 
Transforms into a whisper, 
The Universe hangs in suspension, 
Life— 
I seek the cove that I never found… 
***
THE HEROES…
They swirl everywhere 
In chaos and in glory, 
With claws, they grasp fate 
Like slaves 
In a history without a story. 
***
LANDSCAPE OF WAR
Morning to evening, 
Evening to dawn, 
The skies shattered 
Over the lost victors. 
The seas turn back 
To the rivers, 
The birds urinate on the rifles 
As if mad…
***
ALL IS DUST AND POISON…
All is dust and poison 
On the back of the clouds, 
Nostalgia 
Solemn. 
It fluttered, it fluttered 
My dream 
Like a predatory bird 
With memories…
A black rose, 
I hold in my hand, 
Plucked off between the thighs 
Crown. 
***
THE FOOT OF ADAM
The blue Adam 
And Eve in red 
Walk with me, 
They run for me. 
Oh, what worthy feet, 
What forms full of majesty! 
Could it be 
That I created them? 
***
I SOLD IT
I sold honor, manhood – 
I don’t know how much I gave, how much I received. 
What shall I do now with glory? 
Not even the dogs will eat it! 
***
RUN
Run and run 
With my statue in hands 
To place it 
Where the world’s madness ends, 
Where the grass flourishes 
Of times 
Unlived…
***
I DRANK THE MORNING
I drank this morning 
Out of longing for two eyes 
But if the light dies 
I swear 
I won’t die for you! 
***
AUTUMN RAIN
I sit and gather with fists 
The rain from autumn eaves 
Do you say they are your tears 
Of life?
***
WE ARE BORN, WE DIE…
We are born with our stars 
We die in their sunset 
Until we are born, we love 
Until we die 
We forget each other…
***
WE HAVE NO TIME…
We have no time to think 
We play with words 
Life is a theater 
Where vice sleeps with virtue 
Immersed in happiness!
We have no time to think 
We write poetry… 
***
MAN AND HISTORY
After work and after smiles 
At the border of love and hate 
Man and his history 
Have lit lights to see 
Each other’s face.
***
WHO DIES, IS REMADE
Who dies, is remade 
In their original form, 
Without the burden of guilt 
Weighing on their back. 
They close their eyes and simultaneously 
Settle with their sorrows 
And the world where they breathed 
Urging it into its follies… 
(Translated by Kujtim Hajdari)
_________________ 
Published under International Cooperation with "Sindh Courier"
                                    
                                       
                                    
                                                                                                         
                            
Comments