ALBANIAN Thank you President Trump, but we are Albanians
Albanians o miserables we are Sixteen centuries BC Tanagra and I spoke Albanian Generation after generation we are here Albanians Mountains and plains shout in Albanian
Except in the language of the god we speak In an Albania and eagles of mountain
The deities have transformed us In fairy tales they have blessed us I know before the gods except Homer was here
The centuries of hell are not far away That comes from me once and for all They turned into apocalypse of horror How it hurts me when I look like you to black ravens Not like I am an eagle of blessed soil Let the world burst if it wanted to Albania will not be dismantled
One day our Gods will return to us We trusted the white and black man enough Eh that I believe in the young devil himself.
5 September 2020 AGIM DESKU Translated by Marjeta Shatro Rrapaj
From the Agimian Anthology of the poet AGIM DESKU MORE THAN POETRY
On my birthday
The best wishes come to me every moment
Can’t wait to get down from the rain clouds
I believe they bring me the warmth of the sun
And with the beautiful words of the deities they arrive
Today the kings of spring are no longer with me
Someone looks of the world with covid 19
Maybe why every time I became haughty
Inaudible of the powers of states
I have remained hostage
to my man’s trust
At a time when manhood
is no longer heard
I paid dearly for the silence of the word
I added one more rebellion to my life
I just loved the life of the free fighter
I made the love of his daughter the vers of life
What do I remember about the liberator who didn’t forgive the land
She doesn’t want the tomb of the brave to become dog meat
Today the holy dawns shine in me
Do I have life to see the city except roses
No black clouds of the centuries that cursed us
To bring back the fairy and the love of eagles
25 August 2020 AGIM DESKU Translated by Marjeta Shatro Rrapaj.
SILENCE AGAIN
For the witch time I wrote to you as if you were my liberator
Even so, it holds my life hostage
No one has the courage to tell the truth
Only Serembe has experienced it in his poetic skin
What to say to life when she asks me about her memories
To return to childhood the fabulous life of beauty
They do not allow me those eyes with such a heart when
I paint them How can I so easily forget the silence that never ends
Even life no longer has any meaning in a world full of pain
For the soul there is no question of healing at all
The evenings have become an unforgettable painting for me
There I put your face from the Mona Lize
With a more beautiful name than herself
In the heroine I call and shout
Where are you my liberator of battles left in half victories
For which battles you do not see the beginning or the end
I know well how many times I have died for you and the holy land
In the Prometheus of freedom I was tempted to rise from the grave
How heavy your silence weighs on life
How much someone resembles me in the power of devils when the homeland was divided in two
Prayers to be the bridge of gods have lost their power
Fairy faces are busy indefinitely
Do not turn into something else or the Apocalypse
Stop, Lord, the storms of silence that have taken over
Do not blame either of us for sin
If we are to experience hel
l I became hell for heaven and earth and you heroine.
