He despaired of the word, his throat stopped
The dreams of hope, time slams them.
Prenda Sejdia, an eminent poet from Albania, shares her poems
Prenda Sejdia was born in the beautiful village of Bugjon (Pukë in Albania). When she was still a child, her family moved to Tropoja where she also finished high school. Prenda graduated from the “Luigj Krasniqi” University of Shkodra, at the Faculty of Science and Education. Since 1993 she has been working and operating in Lezha, a model city with cultural, patriotic and religious traditions. Prenda also distinguishes herself in art: in particular in the genre of poetry, criticism and analysis, as well as in literary study, and in the historical monograph or of Ethnic Culture. Prenda is also Editor of the magazine PENA E ARTË – THE GOLDEN PEN and has published its first three issues. She also collaborates with the magazines: METAFORA and ROZAFA. She has written and published a considerable number of publications and reviews for various books and several national authors. She has published 29 books so far and is co-author in various anthologies.
FOR THE LIGHTS OF DREAMS
He despaired of the word, his throat stopped
The dreams of hope, time slams them
Guard makes him pain your distance
Endless jargon, disappointing time
The day begins with memories and the evening sets them
Your absence kills every cell
Mystery not revealed in the tides of the soul
Bizarre Europe, the lights of dreams extinguished
Continue the journey through decades and eras
Loneliness and anger were made with silence.
The roads of hope, nostalgia
He takes them between the words
In distant corners oblivion brings you
The mother misses the embrace of love
In peace we drank the tasteless
Until we got drunk
The word drained on our lips at the scorching climax
It filled up, it was… Yes…
He filled himself with torment.
***
SIGH OF DECEPTION
Even his thirst was poisoned very badly
The candid blood oppressed
Under the mask they were laughing
Those ferocious beasts
Deceived was the boundless sky
Deceived in the name of angels.
Even the seasons were changed by deception
Just as they cheated their thirst,
They poisoned her.
Oh this ointment of the word
Fire extinguishes them to deception
The thirst for logic
The paths of life went crazy
The yellow disaster of the seasons
The beginning we don’t know and the end
Nor does it stop immigration.
Droja from the noise
In thoughts trembles
Jackals and furs wore
Time full of thirst swallow
The sigh of deception
It only echoes the evo.
* Droja, municipality in the District of Croia in Albania
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Received from Angela Kosta Executive Director of MIRIADE Magazine, Academic, journalist, writer, poet, essayist, literary critic, editor, translator
