By Irsa Ruçi
My homeland sorrow will follow me everywherethat pain which I confessed to the strings from my hearttrembling,with the repentance of a daughteralthough I cannot heal those wounds… And today I feel the impotence of beinghope – to shout the future of tomorrowthe sun rises in this country drowsilynow as the weather is closed fragile in a shell; And today I feel the impotence of beingcourage – to see beyond the madnessall my compatriots are isolated, to change the fate of the beautifulwho is raped before our eyes in an ugly wayin tears, but indifferent! And today I feel the impotence of being,… poetry arising from this earthand echoes to people with fragrance of Albania,because I know that our pride is so innocentas waking with the eyes up in the skythat we ask any light threshold. Your sadness is what my home will inherit in sadnessI will keep it forever on my shouldersas a regretwhy couldn’t I be another versethat so through this poetry I could give you my own breath!© Irsa Ruçi (Translated by Stela Xega)
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