Krosi inserts herself into the tradition of the Beat Generation-a youth movement that also expressed itself artistically, poetically, and literarily after World War II, mainly in the 1950s in the USA
By Angela Kosta
From the very first verses of the opening stanza of poem: FOR YOU, AMERICA, written by the Albanian author Emi Krosi, we find ourselves in a surreal, dreamlike landscape where the horizon blends with images full of metaphors: the “albinos of the land of the red Indians” perhaps allude to human or spiritual presences lost in time and space.
The “clouds like knights” suggest epic and mysterious movements. The “planets with nails that tear” present to the reader a tumultuous, almost hostile universe. In the “wasteland of Eliot,” the author connects us to modern poetics (as throughout the poem), emphasizing a sense of decay and loneliness. This work is rich in powerful cosmic visions, mingling mythology, nature, and our own lives.
As one reads, the reader sways between real and/or galactic visions, tracing a mental and universal landscape in each person fortunate enough to experience the poem.
The “gray horizon” stretching beyond the Atlantic symbolizes the loss of the author’s identity in an unfamiliar place—an unbounded border.
The “buttocks of the albinos” in the “land of the red Indians” merge men, races, and historical memories in a contrast that recalls colonization and alienation from that time, which still resonates in our era.
The “clouds like knights” bring dynamism to the “island-skies”, while the “planets” and time that limps—with crutches—clearly reveal the deteriorated vision of our planet. The desert (Eliot) highlights a deep sense of emptiness and disillusionment. Often, the author Krosi evokes the moon (as she does in several stanzas of the poem), with “lemon florins” and “planets with nails,” creating an enchanting yet unsettling atmosphere, where nature and the universe seem to be in conflict with each other, caught between chaos and all of humanity.
The poem immerses us in culturally and poetically rich verses of great professionalism and depth. The reader feels this in the “gray horizon” that stretches over “the buttocks of the albinos of the land of the red Indians”—a beautiful curtain opening for the poem—presenting a highly curious scene charged with historical and visual tension. Through metaphors, the author traces and leads the invisible thread of the violent encounter between cultures, between conquest and lost purity.
Through “cloud-knights” and “planets with nails”, Krosi renders the universe lively, restless, and at times cruel. The sun’s oscillation and time walking “with crutches” immerse us in a fragile, disharmonious reality, where progress is ill and cosmic balance shattered into billions of fragments.
Just like ‘The Waste Land’ by T.S. Eliot (published in 1922), one of the most emblematic works of modernist poetry reflecting the spiritual, cultural, and moral crisis of the West after World War I, Krosi—with her distinct pen—also represents a fragmented, sterile world devoid of humanity. Structured in various stanzas, the poet pours mythology, religion, history, and literature into a complex and disjointed mosaic—a text that is both difficult and simple, requiring a highly active interpretation in reflecting contemporary disillusionment. Yet, amidst all this aridity, Krosi allows the moon to bloom like “lemon florins”—a delicate symbol of life standing in opposition to darkness.
The second poem is a visionary fresco, in which the author combines allegories of mythology with contemporary ones to create a deep reflection—not only individual but also on our own fate.
In the first line, “I wake from the shadow of the cactus,” Krosi introduces a desert and solitary atmosphere, expanding into a world populated by generations—swans that “pollinate the water,” a fusion of grace and fertility.
The globe that “miscarriages immigrants” is not only a powerful denunciation of humanity’s failure to manage migration—turning life into filth—but also a juxtaposition of peoples and races in their complexity and suffering, seeking refuge on virgin margins (a clean world we all desire).
The Native Americans evoke a vanished spiritual past, as well as their original connection to nature and mystery, now suffocated, “denied and offended” by modernity.
The sunlit forests, horses, eagles that Krosi paints in the vivid picture of this marvelous poem are an ancient majesty, while “syllabicating the alphabet” becomes a metaphor for writing the destiny of the world, of her own land, and of the poetess herself.
With her exceptional pathos and uniquely deep introspection, Krosi revives the historical memory of the extraordinary Native American tribes.
In the third stanza, the reader joins the author on a journey into the heart of New York, through the gaze of her wandering soul, seeking itself among the ruins of the American dreams.
The verses blend urban figures and mythic symbols in a dreamlike flow that recalls Beat poetry (a poetic genre born in the USA around the 1950s).
Krosi’s language is raw, direct, and sometimes explicit, much like Ginsberg’s “America” (with two dollars and twenty-seven cents, January 17, 1956). Emi Krosi, however, finds herself on dusty streets, skulls on sidewalks, and struggling poplars (February, 2000).
The Statue of Liberty becomes an ambiguous symbol of freedom and sin, reflecting the modern era in which today’s women live in prosperous countries like America.
In these verses, Krosi offers a bold and sensual reinterpretation of the Statue of Liberty—a woman transformed into a temptress, full of desire and transgression. The “little lesbian Sappho” evokes queer identity and expressive freedom. The tone Krosi uses in her verses is quirky, provocative, raw, yet highly poetic. Female freedom takes shape and, rebelling, bursts into eros. Here, one must pause… with humble greatness, poet Krosi calls herself “little” before the great Greek Sappho, thus showing readers her deep knowledge of ancient Greek literature, rich in mythology and much more.
As the verses unfold, we notice the poetess confronting an unfamiliar city, searching for a resemblance to her distant homeland—poor and illusory but at the same time welcoming (where people already go to the beach, a contrast between cold and heat).
The language is rich with somewhat daring, bold metaphors and surprising images: “belly of fireflies,” “cold buttocks,” “glazed skulls.”
The entire stanza continues to oscillate between Krosi’s personal thoughts and concerns and the collective ones, between dreams and nightmares, between mirage and reality, accompanied by the alienation of her search, in a world now broken into pieces.
Also in the fourth stanza, Krosi continues to use the nuances of a city in constant motion, taking us to iconic places like Central Park and Grand Central Terminal, which become obscene settings with striking elements such as “traffic lights masturbating” and “cold buttocks,” boldly challenging linguistic conventions with the confidence of a very capable author, to convey deep emotions that linger long in the memory of many readers.
The entire poem offers a personal and intense view from poet Krosi, not only on the city but also on its inhabitants.
The presence of a “colored girl” at the station is a significant social critique by the author, highlighting inequalities and marginalization, the slavery of prostitution by those who exploit—this is a crucial point in these verses, a theme that cannot escape our attention. Krosi makes her the protagonist, a woman of color with curly hair.
The prostitution of African American women in the United States represents a complex phenomenon deeply rooted in historical, social, and economic dynamics. Black women are overrepresented in the sex trade, often due to social factors such as poverty, racial discrimination, and lack of educational and employment opportunities. Addressing this issue requires a holistic approach that considers the deep roots of racial discrimination and gender inequality, urging policies that protect the rights and dignity of all women.
All of this Krosi “denounces” and “declares” on the cold streets of America, with a pen that flows as smoothly as her thoughts.
In the fifth stanza, together with Krosi, we encounter the raw, visceral reality of Harlem, where the author portrays a marginalized and deeply troubled humanity, degraded as well, narrating the lives of most inhabitants consumed by drugs, sex, and poverty. Reading this, the reader feels the melancholy and despair that surround our poetic guide.
The smoked cigarettes and wooden ashtray symbolize old habits and a life that wears down the nonexistence of happiness.
By writing, “the cat tickles my bare thighs,” Krosi introduces great sensuality, while in “when the nights shorten like ‘sad whores,’” a deep sadness and disappointment emerge, caused by the death of a thousand loves.
“The moon took me through a late coffee” and the “gold teeth at the end of the day” create a quite regressive nighttime atmosphere.
The streets of Harlem become the stage for “drunkards with dark orgasm foam,” where drugs and sex dominate in a whirlpool of perdition. The “children full of dust with mad deafness” represent lost innocence and the total abandonment of the coming generation, as well as the uncertainty about where we will end up in a future that awaits us without much time.
The “whiskey stench” that erupts like volcanoes from the “colored dancers” until dawn closes the fifth stanza with a powerful and overwhelming sense of despair and disgust.
In the verses of the sixth stanza, “I got lost in the gardens of Babylon,” (as in the other stanzas), Emi Krosi weaves mythological, historical, and contemporary elements to explore and bring to light themes that the reader experiences through the poetess’s emotional journey, starting from the gardens of Babylon, then moving through epics and eras up to today, on the streets of New York.
The lyrical self of the author lost in the gardens of Babylon connects us with a mythical past, of rare beauty but unfortunately lost. The ascent on the “Divine stairs” and the encounter with the “giant colossi of peace” on the rocks of Mount Rushmore is her attempt to reconcile the past with the present, hoping to realize what would be ideal and real for a better world and vital era.
In the second part of the stanza, Krosi continues to focus on a harsh and painful reality, with metaphors that testify to the atrocities of the modern world and the loss of innocence: “when girls are raped, when children are killed, when nations are destroyed.”
However, despite this darkness, she brings forth what she desires inside herself, hoping for the salvation of a less tangled universe.
“A girl… an Albanian girl” – (Krosi).
The author’s verses, as I have highlighted above, often reach difficult transcendence, yet with her perfect syntax, she not only lightens the reading flow but also deeply engages the reader until the very end of the poem.
Through a fluid and understandable narration, in the seventh stanza, Krosi accompanies us and transfers us to the winter city of Manhattan, blending everyday life with dreamlike visions and real existential events.
The scene of the blonde woman feeding her dog with “purple skin” conveys not only the human-animal relationship but also the love and duty each of us has to care for them.
Observing the city’s frenzy while chewing gum, Krosi’s protagonist decidedly contrasts with the crowd, suggesting detachment as well as introspection of every particular subject that negatively influences our daily life or way of living.
The “snowflakes like chicken eggs” and the “hands with warm breath” highlight nostalgia for the Mediterranean climate of the author’s native country. This contrast between the American cold and the warmth where she was born underlines her feeling of estrangement in that unknown-yet known to her-land.
The citation of “America’s highway by Allen Ginsberg,” also in this stanza, introduces the reference to the Beat Generation, with its inner journey and profound search for vitality in a chaotic world.
The encounter with the vagabond murmuring “love, love America…” is a note of sadness, but also a great desire to live with dignity in that land, where she once believed it to be abundantly rich and not so tumultuous.
In the eighth stanza, Krosi presents herself to the readers with a fragmented and intense narration, rich in cultural and political references, reflecting the experience of a disoriented emigrant (many, I would say, lately), caught between the American dream and the reality of a lost identity. Krosi continues to move through the noisy New York, passing through well-known neighborhoods like Midtown, Bronx, Queens, Brooklyn, and Manhattan, creating a labyrinth where she feels so tiny, comparing herself to “a grain of rice,” small and invisible within an overwhelming social-cultural machine.
Krosi’s poetic language is sharp, ironic, and at times surreal (“I have no time to pick poppies / at the traffic lights with swollen eyes”), capable of transforming everyday objects, subjects, or elements into metaphors of alienation.
This is shown through references to The Times, Spielberg, the UN, the White House, Trump, Bush, Clinton, which she places before readers as symbols of power, media influence, and global politics – clashing with the migrant reality, Albanian memory, and the internal struggles of the diaspora community.
The verse where Krosi mentions the “spies of Enver” (Albania’s communist dictator) reveals how historical traumas persist in the present and absurdly reflect themselves even thousands of kilometers away.
Her closing line (“Will I meet Trump today?”) hides both helplessness and critique, revealing how distant great political figures are from individual truths and struggles.
In the ninth stanza, the reader also gets lost in the disorientation experienced by the Albanian poet Krosi in the vast American metropolis. With her pen, the poet expresses the difficulty of adapting to a different culture, highlighting the linguistic and cultural barriers that separate her from the surrounding society.
The entire stanza (like the poem) is permeated by frustration and rebellion against imposed social and cultural expectations. Firmly convinced, Krosi refuses to conform to female and cultural stereotypes, strongly affirming her Albanian and Mediterranean identity.
The scene at McDonald’s clearly shows this and becomes a fundamental element of globalization and cultural homogenization.
In the “cold streets” and the “snowfall,” Krosi portrays total loneliness and isolation.
The “ice” and “snowfall” represent emotional immobility and freezing, reflecting the difficulty of finding warmth, affection, and connection in a cold, distant environment—and this is why she “tells off” the Mexican waiter.
Krosi’s journey with the reader continues with her broad nocturnal vision—nothing escapes her keen optical focus, which captures everything that can help complete the picture with allegories and metaphors—this time aboard a train, an important passage between moods and inner places. The opening verses create a dense and claustrophobic atmosphere: “the marrow of the air is moldy,” “the insects’ antennas are asleep.” With this, the Albanian poet leads us into a different dimension between daytime chaos, a chaos suspended between reality and the surreal, where total darkness becomes both a refuge and an inevitable abyss.
Krosi also includes the Hudson River and satellites in her tableau, thus showing the contrast between nature, technology, and everyday solitude. The “nullity that becomes breath” and the “rusty rails’ rustle” amplify not only the sense of bewilderment but also the deafening silence.
The second part of the stanza becomes even more intimate. Krosi passes through, crosses, and jumps from fear to farewells, from embraces to skyscrapers. The “dusty amoebas” are metaphors for the dull, impersonal life of the metropolis. The repetition of “gray” reinforces the idea of New York City, which, although gigantic, stifles the colors of the soul’s vitality.
The final verse, “Goodbye, or Goodbye!”, reveals Krosi’s decisive purpose: her farewell is personal but also cultural, a confirmed, definitive separation or perhaps hesitation to find herself again between two worlds, two lands, between her mother tongue and a foreign language. Therefore, she prefers to live in her small homeland, which fills her days, life, and above all, her soul.
In conclusion, analyzing this particularly unique poem in the Albanian literary panorama, I want to underline how Krosi inserts herself into the tradition of the Beat Generation-a youth movement that also expressed itself artistically, poetically, and literarily after World War II, mainly in the 1950s in the USA-recalling the works of authors such as Allen Ginsberg (1926–1997) and Jack Kerouac (1922–1969), as well as in contemporary Italian poetry, with references like the poet, writer, painter, and playwright Antonio Veneziani (born 1949 in Italy).
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Angela Kosta is an Albania-born Italian journalist, poet, essayist, publisher, literary critic, editor, translator, and promoter
