And I don’t get satiated, with your smell; as long as you are, as long as you exist, in my heart.
Fatmir R Gjata, an eminent Albania-born poet, based in Italy, shares his poems
Fatmir R Gjata was born in Albania on March 3, 1966. He went to school in his native country and worked in the oil fields as a group manager for the exploration of oil and gas fields. He was active in politics as a young man and in 1990 he became treasurer of the Republican Party of the city of Fier, one of the most important in the country. He wrote for the newspapers of the time as a young man and found him at the forefront of the political changes in the country. In 1991 he left Albania to come and live in Italy where he still lives today in Castelnuovo Don Bosco. Here he worked for 25 years in Pino D’Asti as caretaker of the castle of the same town and in the meantime continued his studies at the University of Turin for political science. Halfway through his studies, he concentrated on literary activities, becoming a leading voice in Albanian letters. With 9 books of written poems he became a protagonist of the country’s literary scene. He has received many awards in different countries such as Germany, Kosovo, Albania.
IF YOU ARE THERE
As long as you are, as long as you exist,
In the air inside
Just as the light, which comes from above,
Is born from the center
And it expands, on land and sea,
Dust and waves
With an embrace, lost in the dark, that spreads
That comes to me, narrow and mute,
Without reason
Without a reason, and I don’t wonder,
Sign and name
And it’s not enough for me,
And I don’t get satiated, with your smell
As long as you are, as long as you exist,
In my heart.
***
ONLY
You were made of rain and milk, wind and lightning
Of feathers forgotten by passing birds
Of fog to drink on a silver glass
When the storm ends.
You were made of violin string and I learned
How to play in all the places in the world
And also in the imaginary ones, created by undressing
The light you give off.
You were made to get me drunk with just the thought
Of unknown and magic poured out in a thousand breaths
And just a touch was enough to spread ethereal
The prayer to the crescent moon.
***
KISS
I wander the night sky counting the stars
Depicting the colors of flowers and dewdrops
Hugging the trees,
Caressing desire
Believe in everything that the night gives me
Without knowing if I’m an angel or the devil,
Or God Himself
Without feeling blood flow and frequent breathing
Without feeling the horror of the moisture of tears
Lest we forget a kiss.
________________________
Prepared by Angela Kosta Academic, journalist, writer, poet, essayist, literary critic, editor, translator…
