«Të nisem...»

Të nisem. Zemra më gumëzhinte me bujari të theksuara. Të nisem... do të mbërrija i mbajtur dhe i ri në këtë vendin tim dhe do t'i thosha këtij vendi llumi i të cilit më hyn deri në përbërjen e mishit tim: «Shumë gjatë jam endur dhe rikthehem drejt shëmtirës së braktisur të plagëve të tua.»

Do të vija tek ky vendi im dhe do t'i thosha: «Më përqafoni pa frikë... Dhe në ditsha vetëm të flas, për ju do të flas.»

E mandej do t'i thosha:

«Goja ime do të bëhet goja e mjerimeve që s'kanë gojë; zëri im liria e atyre që batisen në qelinë e vetmisë së pashpresës.»

Dhe duke ardhur do t'i thosha vetes:

«E sidomos ju, trupi im, shpirti im, ruhuni të mos rrini duarkryq me sjelljen e shterpë të shikuesit, sepse jeta nuk është shfaqje, sepse një det me dhimbje nuk është paraskenë, sepse një njeri që bërtet nuk është një ari që kërcen...»

Aimé CÉSAIRE
Fletore e një rikthimi në vendlindje

«la page vide»

la page vide me regarde d'un œil blanc

dont je ne supporte point l'éblouissement

avec chaque lettre que j'y mets

je bâtis des arcs-boutants

pour mon esprit

des perles noires enfilées sur un sens

que je suis le seul à compréhender

pour l'instant

ainsi les mots et les phrases

prennent la place du vide

et maculent la page chaste

—cet abîme affamé—

tel que les gouttelettes pluviales

mouillent et noircissent

la terre sèche

—cette bête assoiffée—

Bush's Place in History

Some food for thought. 

Thanks to Keith Olbermann.

Constitutional Amendments & Keith Olbermann

I sympathise greatly with the protests against the passage of Prop 8 in California, but I also cannot help but think that it amounts to little, given the nature of the policy regarding constitutional amendments in California.  Somebody did bring to my attention that the protests keep the issue on the front scene and in the media, thus raising awareness, so I applaud those protesting.  At the same time, I have also been thinking about the way constitutional amendments can pass and be enacted in California.  

One of the main principles of a constitution, and especially one like the Constitution of the United States, is to protect the minority from the wrath of the majority.  Constitutions clearly outline the rights and privileges to which all citizens are entitled, so as to prevent reprisals during alternations of power between political and/or social factions.  I believe it is therefore unconstitutional to pass an amendment through a plebiscite—as was done in the case of Proposition 8 in California—and thus impose the judgment of a majority on the minority; and it becomes an even greater fault when this judgment deprives the said minority of equal rights and privileges under the Law, as is manifestly the case with the same Proposition and constitutional amendment derived from it.

This whole process of constitutional amendments by referendums is faulty and deserves reconsideration.  I do know I'm just talking in the air about this and nothing will be done, but I had to share my two cents.

On a related note, here is Keith Olbermann at the most emotional I have seen him.  Please share.  He has quite a few sensible things to say.

A new New Deal?

OK, OK, I know I have strong Socialistic tendencies and am therefore biased, but what's wrong with government intervening to help revive the economy?  The economy has been running free for years now (and we all see where we are because of it) and calling government involvement at this point intrusion or control is unjust; on the contrary, it's a necessary aid that carries with it great promise for the welfare of the American and global economy.  By doing this, the government will preserve the integrity of the country and the well-being of the people, and isn't that the government's main reason for being?

On the same note, I'm merely an amateur historian and not at all an economist, but, in my simplistic way of thinking, I cannot help but consider the circumstances in which the New Deal came about and what it did to provide jobs for Americans.  We are presently faced with a very similar sharp downturn in the economy, with a failing infrastructure, and with energy challenges, all of which provide the same canvas for government projects as in 1932.  

• Government involvement at this stage will boost the morale of the people and engage them in the efforts to keep the economy on its feet;
• infrastructure projects on a national level will provide the work that many highways, bridges, ports, railways, etc. need around the country, while also strengthening our defense and creating jobs that will employ those who are currently losing jobs; 
• and the steps toward greener and reusable energy on a national level (congruous to the need for electrification in the 1930s) can similarly create jobs and simultaneously achieve one of the greatest challenges facing the nation today.

I don't know about you, but I wouldn't be so adverse to a new New Deal.

By Jove, he's done it!

For the longest time, I half-seriously-half-jokingly claimed that the first time America would elect a non-male or non-white president, they would go all the way and elect a black lesbian.  Barack Obama has proved me wrong.  I am happy he has.

I hold these truths to be self-evident...

Reflections.

On Proposition 4

As put forth on the ballot, this measure would change California's Constitution to prohibit 'abortion for unemancipated minor until 48 hours after physician notifies minor's parent, legal guardian, or, in limited cases, substitute adult relative.'  Although the measure provides an exception in case of emergency or pre-dating parental waiver, it does not take into consideration one possible end to this situation:  that a parent may not provide a consent for abortion and the resulting scenario would still leave the girl in question carrying that child for the duration of a pregnancy.  Nine months is a long time.  It's about the length of an academic year.  But this is not so much a question of time and inconvenience as it is a question of the invasion of a girl's body for a period of nine months without any consideration for her rights as an individual, albeit a minor.

I do indeed recognise that she would be a minor and legally under the parents'/guardians' tutelage, but I also cannot help but think of the consequences that such a pregnancy would have on her on a physical, social, and psychological level.  I concede that it is a delicate issue when the maturity of a girl is in question, especially in today's well-nourished world (at least in the U.S.) where girls are reaching puberty as early as the age of nine or ten.  But being fertile does not mean being ready to carry a child.  No one will question that at such a young age the girl is still growing herself, and a pregnancy and the hormonal and physical aspects that accompany it will inflict irreversible damage on her growth, bone structure, and perhaps internal organs.  Tantamount to this is her emotional and psychological welfare and it ought to be considered just as carefully.

With parents guided by religious convictions or deeply entrenched moral dictates, it is obvious that these consequences would not cross their minds quite easily.  The result would be devastating for the girl carrying the child.  I do recognise the adverse effects of abortion as well.  That is why I consider it an evil, but a necessary evil; and I do realise that this right has been and is being abused by certain women when it is used as the only means of contraception, but this is no excuse for punishing those other girls who unwittingly find themselves in the difficult position of being pregnant during their teenage years.  Moreover, it is in no way justified when one considers that by preventing abortion one invades another woman's body, her days, her emotions, her person.  Consider the Fourth Amendment to the Constitution against unreasonable search and seizure of the person, not only of property.

Instead of passing such laws (in a Constitution of all places!) the state should do a better job in educating young people about sex and its consequences.  We are living at a time where 'abstinence only' is not a viable option of contraception, despite what many may think, and abortion still remains necessary, more often because of ignorance and myths that still surround the sexual act as means of reproduction.  At the same time, sexually active individuals, including males but especially females, ought not to rely on abortion as a contraceptive, but only as a last resort.  I have always taken this stance and will continue to do so.

On Proposition 8

This Proposition, if passed, would amend the Constitution in the state of California to prevent the right of individuals to be bound in same-sex marriages, in other words, it would define 'marriage' as a union between a man and a woman.  Where do I start with this one...?

First, let me state that same-sex marriage, as it currently exists in California and Massachusetts, does not in any way obligate religious groups and authorities to recognise it as such.  Consequently, those who purport that such marriages go against the will of god or any other religious canon should sit still in their places and stop fulminating such nonsense—it is inapposite.  Marriage, as it is being sought by same-sex couples, demands no religious connotation, legitimation, or validation.  It is merely a union of two citizens in the eyes of the law for fiscal, guardianship, hereditary, visitation, and other similar civic rights.  This is the only way to provide the equality that the Constitution guarantees to all individuals.  To prohibit it is unconstitutional.  That those two citizens of legal age willing to commit to one another happen to be of the same sex is and should be immaterial.  That the government of the United States or any state therein should recognise and respect such a union and consider it as marriage in equal rights to heterosexual couples, therefore, goes without saying.

Secondly, I feel I should address the question of love.  Few individuals would seriously commit to one another in a covenant (since I'm reading Hobbes) in the eyes of the law if they had no love between them.  To deny such union is to attack the existence of love between those persons.  I realise that many still consider homosexuality a choice and would quickly remind everybody that 'homosexuals' can choose to love and have a marriage with someone of the opposite sex, but should this matter when genuine love is concerned?  Who are you to question the sincerity of someone's love when it is thusly declared by them, be it for the same or for the opposite sex?  And what are you saying about marriage as you presently view it when you disregard these elements of love, commitment, lifelong loyalty in what others seek to call marriage?  And do you also consider heterosexual marriage to be so weak as not to be able to survive in a world where homosexual marriage also exists?  Rethink your arguments.

Thirdly, the argument of procreation as the paramount reason for marriage becomes obsolete when one considers infertile couples, including those who, by nature, cannot have children, as well as individuals beyond a reproductive age.  Should we, then, take away these individuals' right to marry because their marriage will not produce children?

Fourthly, and more importantly, people need to get over themselves.  They are not the guardians of tradition and no one requires them to be.  Times are changing.  The World and the United States are not as they were two, five, or 232 years ago.  And yet it is 232 years ago that I find body and strength for these arguments for equality.  232 years ago, a Declaration of Independence written by a group of enlightened Americans stated the following:  

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

Except for the fancy first S in 'Happiness,' this declaration remains perennial and ought to be upheld as an enlightened ideal, as an American ideal that we can always faithfully follow.

So when you go out and vote tomorrow, Californians, please vote NO on Proposition 4 and NO on Proposition 8.  Posterity will thank you.  I thank you.

Our Father who art in Heaven—stay there...

I have been following this presidential election more closely than any other of its calibre in my life for the simple reason that, for the first time, I will get to vote in it this year.  Despite the back-and-forth diatribes made ever more annoying by the televised ads and by the internet; and despite the annoyance that Palin's person brings to me personally, there is something that gives me a mild satisfaction about how this campaign has unfolded on both sides:  the minor role played by religion.

I was glad to see that neither of the candidates mentioned god in his speeches beyond making it known that they were men of god or beyond the iteration of slogans and clichés such as 'God bless America.'  This has been the case for the two presidential nominees and for Biden, yet Palin has been much more unabashed about her fundamental Christian beliefs and more than suggestive about bringing those convictions in her executive policy-making, should she (___ forbid!) find herself in the White House or in the Oval Office.  Perhaps this side of hers that she has shown in her speeches and interviews is part of the reason why I dislike her as much as I do.  I cannot help but see the fundamentalist bigot resurface in her when words like 'Muslim,' 'science,' or 'gay' come up in conversations, interviews, or questions.  In addition, she is the one who, more often than others, has brought up the issue of religion, specifically by constantly questioning Obama's faith at her rallies, only to then rejoice in and be invigorated by the bigoted, racist, xenophobic, ignorant response of the crowd.  She knows how to arouse such a mob and she just nods repeatedly at the end of such statements.  I find that unforgivable in a figure that seeks election to an executive office.

I apologise for digressing for a moment.  It's just that the woman annoys me a great deal and there is a lot of bile I can spill on her.  Returning to my previous point, I would like to add that I retain the hope that in an Obama administration religion will again take a back seat and be there only to guide him as a person and not as President of the United States and much less as an ideal in the making of long-term policies.  

At the same time, I cannot help but be wary of what is inevitably going to come:  a revival of extreme right-wing 'values' justified and energised by fundamental Christian values and spearheaded in part by... you guessed it—Sarah Palin.  She will not be the only one, however; she will merely be one of the representative figures who, with fundamental religion as a justifier, will appeal to the basest and ugliest aspects of human nature that will further divide this country and engender more divisiveness.  That is why I fear that in four years the presidential election will be quite different from this year's and the punches out of the right wing will be coordinated by staunch fundamentalists who—to my chagrin and to their credit—have proved in the past that they can revive themselves and a political party through a grassroots movement.  

The only remedy to that situation would be a strong and prosperous Obama-Biden administration that will revive the economy, give a satisfactory solution to our wars overseas (while refraining from starting others), restore hope among Americans, de-vilify our image in the world, dispel all doubts that Democrats are weak in defense and prove the fallacy of the equation LIBERAL = HIGH TAXES = REDISTRIBUTION OF WEALTH = SOCIALIST = COMMIE = ATHEIST = IMMORAL = EVIL.  

I am tired of this line of (il)logic....

Popping my presidential election cherry

I became a U.S. citizen in June of 2006.  Granted, I was tipsy when I was sworn in, but still mentally capacious, so I assume it still stands.

This year I voted for the first time in my life in an election.  That was in the Massachusetts primaries, where I voted for a Democratic candidate, namely Hillary Clinton.  I won't elaborate on the reasons for that vote, except to say that, at the time, I was more convinced by her experience and dedication, and especially her commitment to extending health insurance to all Americans, which she supported by a very solid and clear plan.

Back then, Barack Obama was still new in my eyes, so I hadn't yet been convinced by him.  At the same time, I also followed John McCain's support among Republicans and how it soared after winning New Hampshire.  I'll be honest and admit that I liked John McCain... or, to be more exact, I didn't dislike him.  Unlike most in the Republican party, and especially those in powerful positions, he had a clearer vision of America and acted on it more objectively than staunch conservatives did.  That is why I respected him.

In the past few months, however, I have seen how the curve of my respect for him has experienced a downward slope and that of his opponent an upward one.  I have also seen how the learning curves of the two of them have followed almost equivalent slopes; and how my opinion on whom to elect as President of the United States has meristematically favoured Barack Obama.  It is in concert with this disposition and the opinion I have formed of the content of his character that I unreservedly give Barack Obama my first vote for President of the United States on November 4th.

A few months back, I merely recognised that Obama was a good public speaker—not superlative, but keep in mind that Churchill and MLK, Jr. keep my standards very high.  Back then, though, I saw little substance to whatever beautiful things he had to say.  Nevertheless, it was not hard to see that he was no demagogue.  I see this more clearly today and, what's more, I find that the void I used to perceive behind his words has by now been filled and augmented manifold with example after example of right choices, integrity, clarity of vision, judgment, sang-froid, and common sense, all of which have experienced a shortage on McCain's side and I would even dare to claim that they have been absent from the moment he picked the deeply ignorant, highly unqualified Sarah Palin to be his running mate.  

What scares me the most about this neocon harridan—besides the fact that she is unqualified to serve even as the governor of a state like Alaska—is the fact that she is literally one 72-year-old's (skipped) heartbeat from being president of the United States.  That being said, I cannot help but revel and bask in the radiation that the decomposing GOP has been emitting every day for a few months now.  For hilarity's purposes, I urge you to reconstruct the above acronym to your liking.  I personally prefer 'Groggy Old Party,' or even 'Grumpy Old Party.'

I see no point continuing this haphazard entry by reiterating examples of situations that the political, economic, and social climates have thrust upon these two presidential candidates and how each of them has weathered them.  I am convinced that if you're voting in these elections next week, you have been following the two campaigns long enough to have formed an intelligent and well-informed opinion on your choice of candidate.  All I want to do at this point is urge you to go and vote on November 4th or, where early voting is allowed, sometime from now until then.

A side note for those who are voting in California:  Please check the NO box on Propositions 4 and 8.  I will not weigh in on the other propositions and respectfully allow my libertarian friends and readers to vote as they see fit on state expenditures and budget allocations.  Propositions 4 and 8, however, concern two social issues about which I feel strongly.  They are questions of Constitutional and of Civil rights and they aim to take control of the person's body or to define what's acceptable as lifelong commitment in the State's eyes.  Those who have an issue with my calling these rights 'civil' need only remember that the word 'civil' is interchangeable with the word 'civic' and both concern the duties, rights, and privileges of citizens, which we all are if we find ourselves in the voting booths next week.  So let us get there, and vote to elect Barack Obama President of the United States and shoot down the socially challenged, backwards, unconstitutional, and unreasonable propositions I just enumerated.

Dixi.

A rant on Palin & Co.

Kjo përmbledhje nuk ofrohet. Kliko këtu për të shikuar postimin.

«entre nous»

Je dois me rappeler parfois

que je m'aime

car loin de toi

même mon narcissisme

se noie

se perd et plus ne se voit

dans la distance

que tu as créée.

Il est bien triste

que je sois triste

que je ne te résiste

comme aux autres qui voulurent mon cœur.

(Parfois je me rappelle, aussi,

—dans une haine née de mon amour pour toi—

que je t'aime:

bien plus que corps et cœur

bien plus que moi-même.)

«tabula rasa»

Only empty days remain

to be filled by numbers

counting down to new beginnings.

Only empty days remain

between an old life and a new one

waiting, looming in the horizon

to meet my expectations,

dispel all tribulations

or crush my excitations.

It is all too new,

though not yet come;

and in this novel air

I breathe in what remains

of former atmospheres

and taste it like good and bad smoke

on my tongue;

and it burns my lungs,

and I cough out what

I make out to be the last remains of a past,

'till I am left enjoying the high

of a life of memories carefully culled

and one I have yet to try.

?-13 September 2008

«airport-bound»

The plump gray clouds

that rise above the low mountains

make daybreak arrive with a spark.

The new day barely started

within and around me

continues its steady, pointless

track to its end.

It has nothing to look forward to anymore;

the sun has learned by now

it will never catch the moon.

But I have a purpose:

the lure of hastily cooked,

barely warmed airport food.

Hungry at 06.10 on 9 October 2007 on my bus ride to Logan Airport.

poetic discourse

«question»

the element of surprise is the building block of the body,
the substance of quotidian life -
what, with even the sturdy beams and frames of bones,
pivoting and shifting
all at once like a house on hinges,
you didn't know?
your schedules that pepper
your strict lined papers,
crossed out with the same ballpoint pen that etched them,
routines pried out of a day's pine tree,
as much like lovers' initials as you can make them,
what else is there to rely on?

Jonathan BEARD


«answer»

i rely
on listless days and sleepless nights,
that constant that pervades my days
like graph lines across axes of variables
i do not recognise
they twist and turn and startle me from behind
and wrap around my limbs
and overwhelm the time in my watch's arms...
and only then... with hands tied and feet bound,
am i led along paths where time is skewed
and made to see what to my eyes
has theretofore been mewed

so right you are, my friend,
to say the element of surprise
—though a constant and a strife—
is the very essence of my body,
the substance of my quotidian life...

Solvi

«Ulysses»

...

It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho’ much is taken, much abides; and tho’
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

Alfred Lord TENNYSON

«withdrawal»

to me
you are a bad habit
the viceroy of vicedom
worse than
smoking
to my lungs
drinking
to my liver
narcotics
to my brain
you are a stubborn weed
that makes me fly
high
as a kite
the caffeine rush
to later make me
crash
and a chronic
hormonal cocktail
of testosterone
adrenaline
raging through my veins
to keep me in
flight
to make me stand and
fight
in vain
to let you
go
for

no patch
no hypnosis
no cold-turkey will

help me
rid of you
save perhaps a face

as fair as yours
that will appear

in the

buzz

or high

or low

of your intoxicating

infective

hallucinogen

to lead me

to elsewhere

to anywhere

until that day
i seek

to enter
a temple

a haven
to embrace
a foreign
god

any god
to whom
to pray
and nevermore
to have

to kneel

to you

«Pour toi mon amour»

Je suis allé au marché aux oiseaux

Et j'ai acheté des oiseaux
Pour toi
mon amour
Je suis allé au marché aux fleurs
Et j'ai acheté des fleurs
Pour toi, mon amour
Je suis allé au marché à la ferraille
Et j'ai acheté des chaînes
De lourdes chaînes
Pour toi
mon amour
Et puis je suis allé au marché aux esclaves
Et je t'ai cherchée
Mais je ne t'ai pas trouvée
mon amour

Jacques PRÉVERT

«alien to me»

You needn't try so hard, my love, to alienate me:
With the nights growing longer and colder,
with your body remaining far
and your love farther,
I myself exceed you and become an alien to my being,
and exile myself from
or in my feelings,
as the night dictates:
for there are those moonlit slumber hours
when all is too clear and I'll none of you;
and those very somber hours
when in my blindness
I become blinder by my love,
deafer by your silence,
and harder by your absence,
until all I see and hear and touch
is alien to me...

«mine»

i have the audacity to call you my own
not because you call me yours—
for i painfully know you don't—
...but when i spend every waking instant,
every slumbering moment in your presence—
with you in mind and in the spirt
i am starting to believe i possess—
i cannot but think you are a part of me,
that you are in me,
that you are the me i'd love to be

«Dear Shakespeare—»

If love is not love which alters when it alteration finds,
then to thy word I'll be steadfast
and henceforth
speak not of my love in transient terms,
think not of it in transitory thoughts,
look not upon it with ephemeral glances,
nor hold it with volatile arms
or bestow quixotic qualities on 't.

And I'll let all that is fleeting thus remain,
save for my love, my darling—
that ever-fixèd mark...

«shi bie në B*»

.

.

.

të shoh të shkëputur prej meje:

në jetë, në mendime, në kujtime,

në shtrat kur rrallë të ndiej përkrah

dhe në fjalët që s'dëgjoj prej teje

sot, sikur kjo ndarje të mos jetë plot,

me këto duar që shumë kanë duruar

të shkëpus prej meje në të paktat fotografi

që shkrepi aparati me ne të dy kundruall

dhe mallkoj dorën, dhe nëm gërshërët

e shaj veten, shfryj për botën,

për ty, për mua, për ata që mes nesh u futën,

për fatin që më la të ftohur, të lagur

si te fotografia ku, për fare pak—sado larg—,

të përfytyrova pas dorës sime të kapur

dhe në gënjeshtrën time tragjike,

kur shkrepi aparati,

shkrepa dhe unë një buzëqeshje patetike,

se të pata pranë,

nën petkun e natës,

nën pikat e shiut të vakët

.

.

.

.

«speed»

everywhere around me
everything i see and hear
whatever there is near
is a useless catalyst
for the infernal speed
i strive to gain

only you—
when you're next to me
while my foot is floored—
give me that extra curl in my toes
that makes chaos of all gases
and propels me to speeds faster
than my tongue can speak a word of love, of thanks—

—thus... with you beside,
even an utterance deep and abysmal
remains but vacuous and void...

«de profundis clamavi»

with no guitar for me gently to weep

i let this strange whim around me to creep

and explore me from within and from without,

learn all my secrets therein and let them out;

and with them reveal my loves and obsessions

and leave in my rues and reflections.

and if the time be right,

whether i be steady or in flight,

let this stranger ever capture me by force;

i'll submit to him and follow his course

whether it lead me to an exalted podium

thence i shall preach my gospel of odium

and pound my fists in fits of rage,

like John the Baptist in Herod's cage,

extol myself and deprave my foes,

see those who've done me ill in hopeless throes....

or better yet...

whether it rest my tender rear in a cloud

and godlike in fulminations i declaim out loud

my willful abnegations to those i love

who are so few as not to push and shove

when reaching for my cloud and thereby me

to be clasped together for all the world to see,

their warmth to cherish for but a moment,

to see for once and ever my loathsome torment

hail down and rain and thunder like Zeus deranged,

then seep and dissipate in the ground it long estranged,

until, like uttered words that quickly become air,

it is rendered naught and is nowhere.

...

Seeking to reap what I sowed

I must have been four or five years old at the time.  It could not have been before May of 1989, because I remember we were still in our old house before it was destroyed by the torrential hailstorm on St. Constantine's Day.  We had a fairly large courtyard adjacent to our house where we didn't plant much, as I remember, because nothing seemed to grow there.  I didn't know this, or at least didn't grasp it at the time.  I am jumping to this conclusion now, as I consider it in retrospect.

I didn't know a lot of things as a child.  I was unaware of this ignorance, yet I was very curious and always did things and took initiative without consulting anybody beforehand.  One day, I took a garden hoe and started tilling the land in the aforementioned courtyard, as much as I felt was necessary, or as much as I could, given my age and size.  Then I took handfuls of sugar from the azure box in which we used to keep it for everyday use and sowed it, hoping that one day, in the near future, it would sprout, bloom, and produce more sugar that I could then enjoy in any way I pleased.

In my simple mind or blatant ignorance I was confident and boastful of this, which, to my chagrin, ended up haunting me when word spread and everybody around town kept asking me, 'has the sugar sprouted yet?'  It was an embarrassment for a long time thereafter, especially once I learned—from adults and from a disappointing lack of crop—that things like this did not happen.  I have outgrown that shame and for the first time I am unabashedly admitting to having undertaken this silly venture.  That is not why I write today.

I write instead in remembrance of things past, be they the barren fruit of ignorance or naïveté, or merely happy memories reaching me from a happy past that I have, in vain, sought to recapture for the latter half of my life; I write in support of future ventures, be they pursued by my heart or mind, and I toss aside my pride, my better reason, maturity, and a coterie of other checks and balances, and, simultaneously, commit myself to finding a happiness I once had before the waves of years settled with a crash on my shoulders; I commit myself to reaping the sugar I once sowed.

I don't know yet what this means....

«partir c'est mourir un peu»

vdekjen që prur largimi e ndjeva me nisjen tënde
kur krahët tona u shtokëzuan
dhe shkarazi ndjenë për të fundit herë
njëra-tjetrën

larg teje ftohja nuk vonoi
dhe me kthetrat e saj
trup e shpirt më pushtoi

tani pres ngrohjen që ti rrezaton
kur, si dje, me shpërfillje dërgon dy fjalë;
apo afshet që trupin ma mbulojnë
kur, si sot, në bankën time gjej fletushka
me fjalë që ti shkujdesur hodhe në to

në dëshpërimin tim patetik
shpërfillëse a të shkujdesura,
fjalët e tua më shfaqen si fjalë dashurie
që, si dashnor i lënë harruar,
i pres buzagaz e zemërndezur;
që, si vejan prej ndarjes gjymtuar,
i ruaj e s'kam për t'i hedhur...

«Εαυτόν τιμωρούμενος»

S'e njoha dorën time kur e rrëmbeu kamxhikun
dhe kafshërisht më fshikulloi trupin.
S'i njoha dhëmbët e mprehur në shtrëngim
kur me shtazëri kafshuan buzën
dhe nxorën prej saj çdo dëshirë për puthje.

Në dhimbje mbylla sytë
dhe të tjera tmerre m'u shfaqën
si tortura ndaj vetes
fshehur në brendësinë e qepallave.

Në lojën shkatërrimtare u fut dhe zemra
dhe me rrahjen e saj
u ndesh e u rrah e u mund trupi im, tempulli im,
sa u bë turrë ku flijoj mish e shpirt
kur flakë dashurie të ngjizura aty
marrin vrull e përpijnë qiejt.

«La lettre»

Doucement.

Je t'écris et la lampe écoute.
L'horloge attend à petits coups;
Je vais fermer les yeux sans doute
Et je vais m'endormir de nous...

La lampe est douce et j'ai la fièvre;
On n'entend que ta voix, ta voix...
J'ai ton nom qui rit sur ma lèvre
Et ta caresse est dans mes doigts.

J'ai de la douceur de naguère;
Ton pauvre cœur sanglote en moi;
Et mi-rêvant, je ne sais guère
Si c'est moi qui t'écris, ou toi...

Henri BARBUSSE

«épicentre»

t'es le centre de toutes mes pensées
de tout ce que je fais
de tout ce que mon cœur désire
de tout à quoi j'aspire

et dans ce monde
(et d'autres à venir)
t'es l'unique rêve
qui hante mes jours sans trêve

t'es la nuit qui ne me laisse fermer les yeux
et la lumière pour te trouver
une dernière fois pour t'embrasser
et voir ma vie, mes peurs, s'y dissiper

«resignata»

i no longer care to be a hero,
no longer care to be a martyr
of this cause i know not myself

these flagellations that slash my back
i no longer care to feel
or see them slice
and whip my body in shapes
i no longer recognise

i no longer care to be my enemy, my foe,
so i can yearn to be your friend
or bear it all

'til i can be the one i long to know

i no longer care to dare
nor care to see how i can fare
if i no longer care to be
if i no longer care to care

«dreams of mine»

my dreams of you have returned.
more ominous than ever
they foreshadow stagnation and solitude
and nights of tremors and writhings
to which you subject my body
without respite, without a pittance
of your thoughts.

my dreams of you have returned.
and with them the sleepless nights
and restless days and inner fights
against a heart so heartily set on you,
against a body so badly needing you,
to bring your smiles and warmth,
to ignite mine and live between us both.

this onerous reverie i know too well
the storms it brings and the tears it can quell
and i know that in my dream of dreams
lies a love i know
too far to reach and reached but by a glow:
this glow of love i now emit
to touch your heart
and to see it submit.

«Je t'aime»

Je t'aime pour toutes les femmes que je n'ai pas connues

Je t'aime pour tous les temps où je n'ai pas vécu

Pour l'odeur du grand large et l'odeur du pain chaud

Pour la neige qui fond pour les premières fleurs

Pour les animaux purs que l'homme n'effraie pas

Je t'aime pour aimer

Je t'aime pour toutes les femmes que je n'aime pas

Qui me reflète sinon toi-même je me vois si peu

Sans toi je ne vois rien qu'une étendue déserte

Entre autrefois et aujourd'hui

Il y a eu toutes ces morts que j'ai franchies sur de la paille

Je n'ai pas pu percer le mur de ton miroir

Il m'a fallu apprendre mot par mot la vie

Comme on oublie

Je t'aime pour ta sagesse qui n'est pas la mienne

Pour la santé

Je t'aime contre tout ce qui n'est qu'illusion

Pour ce cœur immortel que je ne détiens pas

Tu crois être le doute et tu n'est que raison

Tu es le grand soleil qui me monte à la tête

Quand je suis sûr de moi

Paul ÉLUARD

«refren përballë portretit tënd»

fytyra jote në plan të parë

e skuqur nga një dritë dosido
dhe terri i frikshëm në sfond
hyjnë në qetësinë e syve të mi
ku pasqyrohet një dritë e zbehtë ekrani
dhe zgjohet një tjetër terr

kumbon terri ku kumton kujtimi:
një dashuri e njohur së largu
një ngrohtësi e ndier së paku
një fjalë që duke e pritur më mpaku
dhe një dorë hedhur supit,
e një palë sy
e një palë buzë,
që dot s'i pata kur ftohej nata,
që sot i shoh përtej një ekrani të sheshtë
përtej një drite të zbehtë
me zemër të lodhur
me sy të përlotur

«midnight storms and sanguine morns»

I watch the lumbering night made day by lightning
fresh and leafed branches cracking
swaying with the winds and then snapping
falling on moist grasses
their fall slowed by leaf-parachutes
then hastened again by torrents
chopped in pieces of droplets
hurrying toward the ground
with the fresh and green companions
they seize and impound

'tis the morning alone that reveals it all
the aftermath of winds and rainfall
with leafy branches heaved and tossed asunder
with trunks uprooted, their heads regretting
their growth, their blunder
the pride and spurt that brought them under

and I drive through this vegetating maze
refreshed by dews
and choked by the morning haze
my hands at ten and two
my eyes that look afar
awakened too early, still seeing the last star:
mighty Aphrodite lighting my morn
perhaps reminding the trees and me
that all is not forlorn

«internal, unfinished mêlée»

i fuck my way through sluts and whores
to find my way to you
and in my quest i look for more:
to find what's false,
and even more, what's true

i am a lover made a hater,
madder than a hatter,
with bouts of sanity bursting forth
and ebbing when thoughts of love
do cross my path

and i cross my Ts on paper
and dot my eyes
with pearly tears
and find myself with new faces
wrinkled by memories
and tainted by smears
of words that never vibrated within my ears

«as in happy» [or «echoing Rufus»]

I could listen to you all night

talk about this and that

and everything and nothing in between

and forsake all notes from do to do

I could brim with your scent all night

and not exchange it for the mellow yellow pollen

of orange and jasmine blossoms

I could taste your kiss all night

and with its flavour in my palate

feel the sweetness of

acacia and linden honeys fade away insipidly

I could hold you next to me all night

and feel your warmth

escape within my body

and therein light fires

warmer than December embers

And I could look at you all night

and think of nothing but seeing you all day

in all your splendour,

with all you have

that makes me gay

(as in happy)

«To MD»

I want to hold your hand, my friend,
when I reveal the secrets of my life
to those I hold dear to my heart, my friend

I want to have you cry with me, my friend,
when in solitude I find myself in strife
between an old and new life, my friend

I want to escape with you, my friend
to far away places where I feel not the knife
that life has plunged in my heart, my friend

and in the end, I want you all to me, my friend
to have and hold like no man ever did a wife,
for in my heart and life, in tranquil hours and in strife
I know I'll find in you my constant self
I know I'll find in you a friend, my friend

«If You Knew»

If you knew how I miss you

You would not stay away today

Don't you know how I need you

Stay here, my dear, with me

I need you here beside me

Forever and a day, a day

Together, never parting

Just you, just me, my love

I can't go on without you

Your love is all I'm living for

I love all things about you

Your heart, your soul, my love

I can't go on without you

Forever and a day, a day

I need you here beside me

Forever and a day, a day

And no one else betides me

I love you, I love you, I do

I do

Jeff BUCKLEY

«privation»

t'aimer sans le moindre retour de ton amour
me fait comprendre pourquoi rien
sauf toi et la mort ne me fait pleurer comme un enfant

t'aimer sans le moindre retour de ton amour
me fait comprendre pourquoi rien
sauf toi et la vie ne me fait voir comment je suis petit

mais c'est aussi de mon amour devant le tien
(qui jamais ne donne rien!)
que j'apprends comment je suis grand et noble,
comment je souffre et durcis de ton absence,
sans jamais pouvoir te haïr

«mes sentiments exactes»

... tu es partout car tu es dans mon cœur
tu es partout car tu es mon bonheur
toutes les choses qui sont autour de moi
même la vie ne représente que toi
des fois je rêve que je suis dans tes bras
et qu'à l'oreille tu me parles tout bas
tu dis des choses qui font fermer les yeux
et moi je trouve ça merveilleux...

«chanson non écrite»

quand je pense à toi
même l'horizon se plie en arc
et l'arc-en-ciel se fait
tout droit comme le futur
tout blanc comme la paix
tout en attendant
que toi et moi
y écrivent un mot
une parole de notre chanson

«j'attendrai»

në ditën e shënuar,
kur nuk guxoi shenjtor të lindte,
kur nuk guxoi hyjlindëse të flinte,
do të të pres...

«di»

ajo që unë di—
që ti ndodhesh atje,
një botë më tej;
që miliarda elektronë në tel
na ndajnë sot ne;
që pak elektronë të tjerë
rrallë na bashkojnë;
që fjalët që prurin
shpejt më lartojnë;
që buzagazi që mbjellin
ditët m'i ngroh—
të bën rreze gëzimi,
erë frymëzimi,
fjalë shprese,
kujtim jete;
të bën të jesh
një emër
që në zemër
më buzëqesh

«thinjat»

s'e ka fajin pasqyra
se pas thinjave që ajo tregon
del ti e një tjetër e një tjetër
del një ditë e muzgët
një natë e errët
dhe në kryet e mia shkruhet një histori
dhe në thinjat e mia mbetet një njeri
një kujtim, një lot a një shpresë e mbetur shpresë
e pavënë në jetë, e lënë në harresë
atje dergjet lumturia
atje shkon e vdes rinia
atje lind e vdes gëzimi
atje shkon e shkel mundimi...

të argjendtat fije të flokut
sot fshehen nën rininë e kokës:
atje zien e vlon një ditë harruar kohës,
atje rrojnë e gëlojnë çaste hidhërimi,
atje merr jetë e frymë një hije dëshpërimi...

«méconnaissable»

je ne te reconnais plus

dans un monde bien ailleurs
dans un monde d'autrui
tu te crois reine de tes humeurs
reine de tes jours
de tes nuits qui passent
sans que tu t'en aperçoives
dans ton délire

tu n'es plus reconnaissable

«i gjithkundshëm»

sonte ndodhem

në çdo kthesë të jetës,

në çdo skutë të botës

dhe në rrugët që udhën ma kryqin

lë fjalë dhe magjira,

mallkime, hajmalira,

që zënë më pas kalimtarë të rastit

kur në udhëkryqe ndodhen çastit

kur shkrep në horizont një dritë,

kur hap në shtratin tim një sy

dhe nis një ditë

sonte ndodhem

në çdo akrep të orës,

në çdo kënd të tokës

dhe në rrjedhat që udhën ma presin

mbys njerëz dhe kujtime,

lotë dhe mundime,

që fort më zunë shumë herë

në orë të errëta që sot s'kanë vlerë

në vende të largëta që presin me vite

të hap në shtratin tim një sy,

t'i zë fillin një dite

«si lindi dashuria»

nga dy gradët që ngriti përqafimi ynë

lindi një valë që u përhap me suvalë

përtej kraharorëve të nginjur

drejt hapësirës së paepur të zemrës

vallëzoi vala me një trokitje zemre

dhe përqafimthi nën përqafimin tonë

me hapat e tyre përshkuan trupat tanë

si troke lajmëtare mbi brigje pritjesh

u hap lajmi me tak-tak

iu gjegj zemra me tik-tak

dhe në sytë tanë për një çast

sa nga vala aq nga vallja

lindi e u shkri një lot ngrohtësie

shkrepi një shikim dashurie

«in loco poemæ»

what hymn to sing to you,
what myrrh to anoint you
shall i find today?

in better days, my words have rolled
the myrrh has flowed
and i have made the heavens descend
and humbly before me rest

today, what bitter day it is:
no words to reach you
no myrrh to soothe you,
nor eyes to see you

yet in this body run seas of words not yet expressed
and in these eyes idle placid lakes of tears not yet shed
that will one day pour forth upon you
and be the poetry and myrrh i seek today

«underground»

if you hang around long enough
in these latent circles
somebody is bound to find you
and with a few trite words
lure you into a smaller circumference
where temptation and vice thrive
where the air is rife with leering eyes
ever prowling into arcs of infinite radians
where you find yourself cornered
and staring at your naked self
through another's eyes

irony

Though I never have held, nor yet hold any desire to celebrate St. Valentine's in any way, I cannot get rid of these lyrics playing on repeat in my head since the moment I realised what day it was this morning.

...

Behold the way our fine-feathered friend his virtue doth parade.
Thou knowest not my dim-witted friend, the picture Thou hast made.
Thy vacant brow and Thy tousled hair conceal Thy good intent.
Thou noble upright, truthful, sincere and slightly dopey gent....

«random thoughts in an airport»

if ever you search for emotion, my friend
run by the nearest airport
and find it in the arms of a stranger
embracing another stranger
find it in the union of the luscious lips
of two fresh youths
meeting in body as in heart
find it in the wrinkled lips of an old dame
kissing the smooth cheeks of a child
she knows from pictures
that have travelled in cold envelopes
find it in the eyes of that child
who sees a stranger he has been taught to call 'grandma'

and if ever it is not enough, my friend
find it in a foreign word uttered from the eyes as much as the lips
for it is the eyes that speak the language
you surely understand

«Ku shtrohet vala» [shkëputje]

Se s'dashuronja-as un' as ti,
Po dashuronte dashurija:
Një dashuri - një fshehtësi
M'e fshehur sesa fshehtësija.

[For I was not in love, nor were you;
Love itself was in love:
A love - a secret
More hidden than secrecy.]

Lasgush PORADECI

«This above all» [or «Daily reminder»]

.... to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.

William SHAKESPEARE

«reflections on a snowy day»

snowy days are but static images

of azure skies that hover above us

beyond our vision's grasp

made even more reminiscent of lost signals

by the constant, rhythmic drone

of shovels scraping pavement and asphalt

clean of powder and dust

getting to the earthy surface of our planet

«Escapism»

Sleep with its dark maw shall not find me tonight,
for I shall be a wanderer in the light,
macerating body and limb in the golden sun,
fleeing with it 'til my destiny be done.

My bed shall not feel the comfort of my heat,
nor shall crisp sheets crinkle to my heart's beat;
I shall be an escapèd soul in flight,
tarrying where no eye, nor aught have me in sight.

And when morning comes, perhaps I shall again arrive
to my bedchamber where oft some pleasure I derive:
that of a dream that my sleep imbues
or of a placid awakening with all of Prism's hues.

«Frymëzim nga LRSIP»

Çdo shenjë e jotja zhduket,
çdo hije, çdo shije zbutet,
veç erës tënde që kurrë s'epet;
diçka i shtohet sa kurrë nuk tretet.

Ta dua shpesh trupin plot aromë,
fytyrën tënde dhe buzën e njomë
që më kujton çaste netëve vonë,
puthje si uji që rrjedh nga një stomnë.

Sa shpesh kërkoj të të harroj,
sa shumë pastaj nis të kërkoj;
thërras të të gjej dhe ti kurrë s'më dëgjon
në mendje dhe shpresë diçka zë vajton.

Pyes veten: e ndjen si unë lodhjen
sfilitjen, mundimin e më pas çlodhjen
që sjell i lumi kujtim për ty
që shkon e zhduket sa shfaqet aty?

Me zor i përgjigjem vetes me mohim,
kam dhe më shumë të them, por kurrgjë nuk ka kuptim;
ka vetëm fjalë që s'mbart asnjë fjalor,
kujtime që më vrasin sa më bëjnë gazmor.

«Kërkoj fare pak»

S'ta dua prekjen kur më vjen me gishtat e shpërfilljes,

me shprehjen e talljes, me sytë e shpotitjes.

S'ta dua puthjen kur më vjen me buzët e përbuzjes,

me ngrohje të rreme, me vrullin e këputjes.

Të dua plot pekule, dorëlehtë si puhiza mbi lule,

me qeshje bukurie, buzëzeshje hyjnie.

Me trup t'i dua dhe puthjet në trupin tim,

me afsh që mes honesh e akujsh më ngroh në lartim.