I see my body

In the mirror…

It resembles

A double bass.

Mimoza Marjanaku is one of the luminous voices of Albania’s contemporary stage

Mimoza Marjanaku is one of the luminous voices of Albania’s contemporary stage. An acclaimed actress and a vital presence in the country’s cultural life, she is currently a leading member of the “Aleksander Moisiu” Theatre in Durres. She graduated from the Academy of Fine Arts in Tirana (1988–1995) with a specialization in acting and has since built a distinguished career across theatre, film, and television. Her repertoire bridges classical and modern works with rare versatility. Among her most celebrated roles are Clytemnestra in Sophocles’ Electra, the ethereal Titania in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and Elena Popova in Chekhov’s The Bear and The Proposal, along with numerous appearances in contemporary dramas and local adaptations. Beyond the stage, Marjanaku is a poet of striking sensitivity. Her poems—already published in leading Albanian journals and newspapers—will soon be collected in her first book of verse. She is also a passionate interpreter of Albanian poetry, bringing to life the works of fellow authors in live performances and through her vibrant presence on social media.

THE PLUCKING OF THE SOUL

The lights go out.

I reach in the dark

Toward the bed.

 

Golden minutes—

Under the sheets

We become two:

I

And the Soul.

 

I see my body

In the mirror…

It resembles

A double bass.

 

Standing,

Behind the seated players,

A rhapsody begins.

 

A sound

Rises from the earth,

A hidden moan.

 

The soul, unruly,

Plucks the body

With a painful, piercing touch.

 

Wood splinters,

Strings snap.

 

The audience

Rises from their seats.

 

The body remains alone,

Center stage—

A shattered double bass

Performing a torn score.

 

No finale.

Only the tear in the eye—

The bow—

Does not abandon me.

***

MY SOUL, A FLUTE

You

Did not arrive by accident.

I had chosen you.

 

You might have entered

Another body,

But your essence

Shaped the flute—

 

Beneath my fingers,

Small mouths of breath

Along its length.

 

I chose you

To tune my soul,

Restless,

Wounded,

Unearthed,

Unbridled.

 

I played Breath,

The sonata for flute in A minor.

My whole body erupted in sound,

A chorus of itself.

 

When the oak and the pine

Applauded,

When mountain, sky, and grove

Trembled the shirt

Of the startled doe—

 

I knew you were born in a forest,

O flute.

***

FETUS

One day

They branded her:

“Promiscuous.”

 

A grandstand of trousers

Gathered for the show.

“The object—

Stripped,

Sealed in a plastic sphere.”

 

Every “fan” free

To punch,

To kick,

To toy.

 

The woman’s body

Bled

As if birthing itself.

 

To survive,

She folded inward,

Into the womb of her own mother:

Fetus.

 

The sphere screamed with pain,

Tore itself open

So the child could emerge.

 

From every pair of trousers

A father’s head appeared—

A punishment

For what the eyes had witnessed.

***

LARYNGITIS

Hoarse,

From longing

Mingled with tears,

The cords soaked,

The dampness cutting

To the marrow of the cry.

 

Ah, I forgot—

This poem is called

“Hoarse Saxophone,”

A man

For a woman

He never had.

 

And still he continues,

Verses rasping

Like an aging lion

Mourning the time

When he was king—

 

For you, woman,

Whom he never kissed

But always loved.

 

Now he composes in tears.

No pain is sharper

Than a man who weeps.

Be forgiven.

(Translated: Ana Korça)

___________________ 

Coordinated by Angela Kosta, the Executive Director of the Magazines: MIRIADE, NUANCES ON THE PANORAMIC CANVAS, BRIDGES OF LITERATURE, journalist, poet, essayist, publisher, literary critic, editor, translator, promoter