The horses cry, the horses cry
Tears slipping onto the grass
The horses cry for the people
Who have forgotten how to cry!
Arben Iliazi, a renowned poet from Albania, shares his poems
Arben Iliazi, born on March 1, 1963 in Saranda (Albania), graduated from the Faculty of Philology in Tirana in 1988. Until 1991, he worked as a screenwriter and then dedicated himself to journalism, serving as a journalist and editor-in-chief for several daily newspapers in the capital. He is known as a poet, essayist, and playwright. He is author of several poetic volumes, essays and stage dramas.
THE HORSES CRY…
The horses cry, the horses cry
All the horses cry…
The horses cry, the only ones
For whom love hurts like a wound
The horses cry, the horses cry
Tears slipping onto the grass
The horses cry for the people
Who have forgotten how to cry!
***
I SEEK THE COVE…
I seek the cove that I never found,
A wave shakes the storm of droplets.
I must love, without a doubt,
The squeaks that seagulls have left…
Everything around
Transforms into a whisper,
The Universe hangs in suspension,
Life—
I seek the cove that I never found…
***
THE HEROES…
They swirl everywhere
In chaos and in glory,
With claws, they grasp fate
Like slaves
In a history without a story.
***
LANDSCAPE OF WAR
Morning to evening,
Evening to dawn,
The skies shattered
Over the lost victors.
The seas turn back
To the rivers,
The birds urinate on the rifles
As if mad…
***
ALL IS DUST AND POISON…
All is dust and poison
On the back of the clouds,
Nostalgia
Solemn.
It fluttered, it fluttered
My dream
Like a predatory bird
With memories…
A black rose,
I hold in my hand,
Plucked off between the thighs
Crown.
***
THE FOOT OF ADAM
The blue Adam
And Eve in red
Walk with me,
They run for me.
Oh, what worthy feet,
What forms full of majesty!
Could it be
That I created them?
***
I SOLD IT
I sold honor, manhood –
I don’t know how much I gave, how much I received.
What shall I do now with glory?
Not even the dogs will eat it!
***
RUN
Run and run
With my statue in hands
To place it
Where the world’s madness ends,
Where the grass flourishes
Of times
Unlived…
***
I DRANK THE MORNING
I drank this morning
Out of longing for two eyes
But if the light dies
I swear
I won’t die for you!
***
AUTUMN RAIN
I sit and gather with fists
The rain from autumn eaves
Do you say they are your tears
Of life?
***
WE ARE BORN, WE DIE…
We are born with our stars
We die in their sunset
Until we are born, we love
Until we die
We forget each other…
***
WE HAVE NO TIME…
We have no time to think
We play with words
Life is a theater
Where vice sleeps with virtue
Immersed in happiness!
We have no time to think
We write poetry…
***
MAN AND HISTORY
After work and after smiles
At the border of love and hate
Man and his history
Have lit lights to see
Each other’s face.
***
WHO DIES, IS REMADE
Who dies, is remade
In their original form,
Without the burden of guilt
Weighing on their back.
They close their eyes and simultaneously
Settle with their sorrows
And the world where they breathed
Urging it into its follies…
(Translated by Kujtim Hajdari)
_________________
The Poet Francesco Favetta
was born in Sicily in Sciacca,
he has always loved poetry, writing verses, but above
all culture, true culture,
food for the soul!
So far he has written more
than 4000 poems, he also writes philosophical reflections
and thoughts.
It’s always life loved !
It’s already tomorrow
and it’s a better day
it’s the right time to breathe
and to love everything
it’s the season of flowers
the day after the rain
it’s the dance of the sun
and then again it’s
the time for beautiful words
in the crazy song of the heart.
It’s always life loved
and every night
already drowned in the dream
then the light of dawn will be born in the world
and it will wear in silence
the sails of the sun
every color
and its lives
eternal warm emotions.
©Copyright Francesco Favetta The fire of life
It is love still
a song inside the heart
that suddenly steals
every breath from the mouth
and tears from the eyes
the fire of life.
He is a rushing river
drags everywhere
with his tides
and his passion
and then the blood drowns
in his deep abysses.
The love that implores
and is life inside life
is alive in the flesh
is a dance between souls
is rain that wets
and then explodes in the veins.
©Copyright Francesco Favetta
Inside me
You don’t know
how much it costs me
to stand still
in my silence
like a drum
that doesn’t beat
immersed in mud
and blood
inside my teeth
and in my eyes
rebellious spirit
still alive
inside me.
©Copyright Francesco Favetta