And now I am chating in my language again. Things make sense, words have feelings, feelings have colours. It is amazing how good it feels when the conversation is colorful and sensitive.
So I asked my artist friend to recite a poetry for me. And althought reciting in chat does not make the same effect as hearing someone reciting, the poetry gave me goose bumps. A bit "customized" here it is. And I really apologize to all my English speaking friends, but I will not transalte this one. Just like I said, if I translate it in English, I will take away the sense, the feelings and the colours from it. I will replace my name with "My land".
Nga Ali Podrimja
zgjohu, My land! zgjohu, nena ime e dashur,
balli dhe emri im i shkelur,
zgjohu, oj! a po e ndjen vajin tim?
a po sheh si t'i kam ngulur syte
mu ne zemer, mu ne shpirt,
si t'i kam hedhur duart rreth belit
për te perqafuar une, ashti yt?
zgjohu, My land!
nga deget e tua te thyera kush po bahet,
kete vater kush po e le?
Ç'janë keto gjurme gjaku qe po shtohen
neper fytyren tende,
keto varre e murana qe po sillen vërdalle
rreth shtepise sime?...
zgjohu, My land! zgjohu, nena ime e dashur,
balli dhe emri im i shkelur,
zgjohu, My land!...
sonte vetem mbeta e
ne dere t'oborrit askush me s'po me troket,
askush me, thua vdekur jam e harruar
ne keto troje e suka gjaku.
thua me eshte e shkrimbur hisja
e mbyllur dera e konakut...
zgjohu, My land, flake e hershme e ashtit tim
t'pelcitur.
bota në ty le te kallet!
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