Ndue Dragusha, a serious creator in the genre of poetry and prose, from Albania, the birthplace of Mother Teresa, and a country also known for its medieval-era castles, shares his poem
Ndue Dragusha was born on September 29, 1953 in the village of Dragusha, on the outskirts of Lezha (Albania). Ndue finished his secondary education at the Shejnaze Juka School in the city of Shkodra and then graduated from the Institute of Education in the branches: Albanian Language – Literature and Lower Cycle, also in Shkodër. In addition to this, Dragusha also graduated in Tirana in Psychology. Ndue has worked as a teacher in all cycles of education in different places in the Lezha district. Since 1998 Ndue has been the Director of the newspaper LISSABA, a literary-artistic newspaper, which has traveled around and off our continent. Ndue Dragusha started writing when she was in high school, where he was also very active in artistic and cultural activities. Ndue Dragusha is already one of the most accomplished intellectuals in the city and district of Lezha, who, within the scope of the above attributes, has for years formed the profile of a serious creator in the genre of poetry and prose. His poetry is so varied that it can be said to be one of the best in this collection: with realistic variations and motifs, metrical variables in verse, regular linguistic organization, sometimes according to our creative tradition, but also in contemporary forms, with which Ndue Dragusha has outlined what is called “authorial style”. Ndue Dragusha has also been successful in the field of scientific prose, with a monograph and two biographies of prominent figures… So far, he has published several books.
TO SISTER LIRIDONA!
(With immense sorrow)
I don’t know if you’ve read Dante Alighieri,
I don’t know what books you’ve read,
But I learned that you, sister,
Hell itself you lived,
Ever since you gave love to the devil.
That was your path in this life
With demons by their side, no one would have a future.
You will rest in peace today in Paradise
For the land of wicked Cains is.
There are so few Abelli left on earth,
That hands as clean as the sun have,
But the world of Cains mocks us,
With vampire teeth and a burning soul!
Today, all the eyes of the world shed tears,
In their tears your new face speaks…
Your face that shone among the flowers today,
And the murderer’s filthy crawling face killed
______________________
Received through Albania-born Poetess and Writer Angela Kosta, who is currently based in Italy. 
[…] Also read: TO SISTER LIRIDONA! – A Poem from Albania […]