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| Visar Zhiti Poetry IntraText - Concordances (Hapax - words occurring once) |
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1 Strike| day.~(Saturday, 4 February 1984)~~
2 Door | Qafë Bari prison camp, 1985)~~
3 Lips | is abandoned.~(Lushnjë, 1987)~~ ~
4 Office| hair.~(Tirana, 22 March 1994)~~
5 Office| hanging by the hair.~(Tirana, 22 March 1994)~~
6 Strike| from a sick day.~(Saturday, 4 February 1984)~~
7 Death | s trembling shoulders.~(9 March 1983)~~
8 | above
9 Office| whirlpool of intrigues,~No abyss of convictions. No gun barrels~
10 Day | white stone,~If you do not accept it, they throw you in prison,~
11 Far | sighing,~One’s country is an accident, said the publisher from
12 Far | Belgrade.~So let us not lose it accidentally, I added.~We can enrich
13 Lips | life’s end.~The cries of acclamation from the stands~Fill the
14 Lips | masses,~The aging notables add an air of dignity to the
15 Day | nonetheless,~Just as in every aeroplane~ there is always
16 | after
17 | Against
18 Office| Spread by mice in the Middle Ages, nor world wars~Brought
19 Lips | to incite the masses,~The aging notables add an air of dignity
20 Strike| yesterday, nor three days ago,~Nor since the Second World
21 Strike| Nor when you are dead.~"Go ahead and die!" said the guard
22 Lips | The aging notables add an air of dignity to the arena.~
23 Far | rights,~But it is full of Albanians, so you have rights.~So,
24 | almost
25 | already
26 Day | L."~I stand in awe and amazement - not even humans,~
27 Time | as a ghost~Through bloody amnesia.~To have them shovel the
28 Day | drenched~As are the television antennas.~I have a mountain before
29 Far | forests and, naked, timidly~Approach the cities...~(Bucharest,
30 Day | planet is made of fire, of ardent sun.~It rains. Someone must
31 Lips | an air of dignity to the arena.~Making their separate entries,
32 Father| Save us!~My father~Who art in heaven and under earth...~
33 Office| of the masses,~That the ashtrays on the long desk would surely
34 Room | out our oil lamps,~Throw aside our boots,~And hustle off
35 Strike| He was as stubborn as an ass.~The men from the command
36 Father| s poem, once banned, the author~And his works. They had
37 | away
38 Day | letters "A. P. L."~I stand in awe and amazement - not even
39 Father| My father's poem~(Poema e babait)~Yellowing pages~From the
40 Prison| of a big prison~Is like a baby in the pouch~Of a crazed
41 Strike| doctrine.~The walls~Dance back and forth,~A cry runs barefoot~
42 Far | yonder mountains in the Balkans~Our future lies waiting.
43 Room | The prison shower room~(Banjoja e të burgosurve)~We, the
44 Strike| back and forth,~A cry runs barefoot~Down the corridor.~The cockroaches
45 Door | point wherever you go.~(Qafë Bari prison camp, 1985)~~
46 Office| abyss of convictions. No gun barrels~Emerging from the drawers~
47 Day | there is always one beautiful woman.~Perhaps the branches
48 | became
49 Father| father died blind, like a begging Homer,~And my mother stopped
50 Lips | prolong their lives - so they believe,~Suck, ravenously suck out
51 Room | a prisoner's body.~The beloved water licks me with its
52 Room | bodies.~You revel,~Are bewildered,~Could faint for joy,~Fall
53 Day | Perhaps the wings of the birds,~Their flights drenched,~
54 Prison| shorn,~ like a blackbird~With wings clipped that
55 Room | feeble, wounded,~ blackened,~ bodies.~You
56 Father| Plunged his hands into the blades~
57 Room | warmth we have,~Like rain blessed by the heavens,~Pours over
58 Father| earth...~My father died blind, like a begging Homer,~And
59 Day | you" on their lips.~The bones of the prisoners are drenched~
60 Door | the phantasmal cover of a book~Never published.~The gnarls
61 Father| guards were unloading banned books~And old newspapers from
62 Strike| he squeaked like a torn boot,~On the third he fell silent.~
63 Room | oil lamps,~Throw aside our boots,~And hustle off to the shower
64 Strike| cell,~All with their heads bowed, reflecting ~In the dish
65 Office| Middle Ages, nor world wars~Brought this cataclysm upon Albania,
66 Far | Approach the cities...~(Bucharest, s.d.)~~
67 Time | wish and testament,~Make a bundle and whimper.~The dead do
68 Day | to the murmuring of the burdens~ with words like "
69 Room | shower room~(Banjoja e të burgosurve)~We, the prisoners,~Slip
70 Death | Undelivered to its family for burial.~(You are neither among
71 Father| Ordered that the poem be burned,~Should it be found. A hostile
72 Lips | Bloody lips~(Buzët mbi gjak)~The open wound~
73 Father| married (and they’re not called Helen~Or Paris). Engaged
74 Father| through it:~"Forget not Çameria and hapless Kosova~They
75 Father| behind a black car~Within the walls of the
76 Office| world wars~Brought this cataclysm upon Albania, but rather~
77 Office| diktatorit, pranë së cilës punoj)~Cautiously I opened the door of the
78 Death | trondit kërkënd)~The tunnel caved in~And a prisoner was killed.~(
79 Time | Kosova~Has been sown for centuries with the dead~And it grows
80 Prison| been sentenced to over a century.~Be steadfast!~Our whole
81 Death | been killed)~And so, the chain gang returned to camp~With
82 Death | prisoner was killed.~(but the chains he was wearing have not
83 Office| very eyes hung a crystal chandelier~Like a head chopped off,~
84 Death | officer at the gate,~In charge of the watchmen,~And say: "
85 Bars | the verdant branches of a cherry tree.~The floor was covered
86 Cells | shoulders,~Like a porter with a chest of goods.~(1980)~~ ~
87 Day | flights drenched,~But their chirping is golden nonetheless,~Just
88 Office| occupation, nor earthquakes, nor cholera~Spread by mice in the Middle
89 Office| crystal chandelier~Like a head chopped off,~
90 Office| dikurshme e diktatorit, pranë së cilës punoj)~Cautiously I opened
91 Father| performed~At the Kosova cinema in Tirana... Two old people,~
92 Far | naked, timidly~Approach the cities...~(Bucharest, s.d.)~~
93 Room | you,~ neither claws,~ nor horns.~
94 Prison| like a blackbird~With wings clipped that it not soar).~There
95 Room | waves of life.~Then come the clouds on high,~And then the rain,~
96 Strike| barefoot~Down the corridor.~The cockroaches take fright. Look how they
97 Far | two Tantaluses~We drank coffee: I and a publisher~
98 Strike| the floorboards~Of your coffin cell, you have not eaten
99 Strike| reflecting ~In the dish of cold soup.~The dish was the eye
100 Room | dead waves of life.~Then come the clouds on high,~And
101 Strike| an ass.~The men from the command came ~ to your
102 Office| of intrigues,~No abyss of convictions. No gun barrels~Emerging
103 Death | With one man less,~With one corpse more,~Undelivered to its
104 Lips | l over the still warm corpses~Of the young. Their withered
105 Strike| cry runs barefoot~Down the corridor.~The cockroaches take fright.
106 Death | the watchmen,~And say: "Count it, are we all here?"~Take
107 Bars | cherry tree.~The floor was covered in warbles~And I, on my
108 Office| The floorboards did not crackle nervously,~There was no
109 Far | language.~It used to be the cradle of Serbia, he said, so we
110 Prison| a baby in the pouch~Of a crazed kangaroo.~You may despair,~
111 Lips | Gurgles out life’s end.~The cries of acclamation from the
112 Time | And not to cover up the crime.~The Plain of Kosova~Has
113 Strike| Dance back and forth,~A cry runs barefoot~Down the corridor.~
114 Office| Before my very eyes hung a crystal chandelier~Like a head chopped
115 Far | superfluous.~Shall we turn our cups over to read our fate,~My
116 Strike| dish was the eye of the cyclops.~The mice were eating the
117 Strike| of... doctrine.~The walls~Dance back and forth,~A cry runs
118 Day | slogan, right in the open daylight,~With watery hands it has
119 Strike| before yesterday, nor three days ago,~Nor since the Second
120 Strike| death of the tyrant was delayed. ~He was as stubborn as
121 Office| the ashtrays on the long desk would surely be made~Of
122 Prison| crazed kangaroo.~You may despair,~But be steadfast!~~
123 Father| World War,~Gnawed on, like desperation.~It is my father’s poem,
124 Office| long illness.~... they were destroying the symbols of tyranny...~
125 Office| like the eyes of metal detectors.~I stood silent, pallid~
126 Father| stopped sewing during the dictatorship~Me in handcuffs~
127 | did
128 Father| under earth...~My father died blind, like a begging Homer,~
129 Office| filled with fear again, a different kind of fear.~I thought
130 Lips | aging notables add an air of dignity to the arena.~Making their
131 Office| work~(Zyra e dikurshme e diktatorit, pranë së cilës punoj)~Cautiously
132 Office| near which I work~(Zyra e dikurshme e diktatorit, pranë së cilës
133 Day | make your life dismal, and~If you are already
134 Office| the dismantling of a guillotine.~Neither
135 Day | A rainy day~(Një ditë shiu)~It rains~And rains~
136 Strike| notes on the scores of... doctrine.~The walls~Dance back and
137 | Down
138 Father| handcuffs~ they dragged off~
139 Far | like two Tantaluses~We drank coffee: I and a publisher~
140 Prison| whole country is a prison,~Draped in barbed wire,~Sentenced
141 Office| barrels~Emerging from the drawers~
142 Father| and hapless Kosova~They dreamt of freedom, became a dream
143 Day | blood, could do it.~Innocent droplets of rain~Make almost all
144 | during
145 Time | time over~(Varrimet për së dyti)~Never to die~And to be
146 Office| Neither occupation, nor earthquakes, nor cholera~Spread by mice
147 Strike| coffin cell, you have not eaten today,~Nor yesterday, nor
148 Strike| the cyclops.~The mice were eating the bread, scampering about,~
149 Day | you again.~The rain has effaced the slogan, right in the
150 Room | another reality,~ Einstein,~ lunar.~Now
151 Office| convictions. No gun barrels~Emerging from the drawers~
152 | end
153 Father| called Helen~Or Paris). Engaged under the occupation...~
154 Far | accidentally, I added.~We can enrich one another. No one is~
155 Room | have not been abandoned entirely,~Not by the snow which melts~
156 Lips | arena.~Making their separate entries, they~
157 Room | water~As it glides over and envelops your body~Like a woman.~
158 Day | of rain~Make almost all events~ Quite natural.~~
159 | every
160 Strike| They throw you into it,~For example, if you do not work.~Lying
161 Room | naked bodies.~You wash the exhaustion,~The insults,~The mire of
162 Father| Minotaur, and surreptitiously~Extracted my father’s poem, once banned,
163 Strike| cold soup.~The dish was the eye of the cyclops.~The mice
164 Strike| Then came the sixth day. In fact~Nothing happened. The seventh
165 Father| from a truck~At the paper factory,~To make new white paper,~
166 Room | revel,~Are bewildered,~Could faint for joy,~Fall in love with
167 Far | our cups over to read our fate,~My good Serb? Behind yonder
168 Prison| and grandson in prison.~A father-in-law and a son-in-law,~A man
169 Strike| a sick day.~(Saturday, 4 February 1984)~~
170 Room | a torrent of tears~Over feeble, wounded,~ blackened,~
171 Room | body~Like a woman.~And you feel~You have not been abandoned
172 Death | friends.~Throw it at the feet~Of the officer at the gate,~
173 Strike| s wrong," he said on the fifth.~Then came the sixth day.
174 Lips | acclamation from the stands~Fill the sky with raging tigers.~
175 Office| great office,~How odd, I’m filled with fear again, a different
176 Room | the snow which melts~And fills the mighty rivers.~Far from
177 Lips | from the sun,~Flowing into filthy veins~As if into sewage
178 Room | arms, belly and thighs,~Finding nothing foreign on you,~
179 Day | of the planet is made of fire, of ardent sun.~It rains.
180 Door | sunlight outside.~My eyes are fixed upon the heavy wooden portal.
181 Father| worthy of the nation. Like flies gathering over~The dead
182 Day | wings of the birds,~Their flights drenched,~But their chirping
183 Bars | branches of a cherry tree.~The floor was covered in warbles~And
184 Door | The gnarls flushing so florid~Like the blood of fresh
185 Far | rises from the waters~Which flow through the forests and,
186 Door | Never published.~The gnarls flushing so florid~Like the blood
187 Room | lunar.~Now I can fly~Far, far away...~Vaporized
188 Room | thighs,~Finding nothing foreign on you,~ neither
189 Far | waters~Which flow through the forests and, naked, timidly~Approach
190 Father| we leafed through it:~"Forget not Çameria and hapless
191 Strike| The walls~Dance back and forth,~A cry runs barefoot~Down
192 | found
193 Strike| trembled in his face.~On the fourth day, he said: "Eat!"~"What'
194 Father| hapless Kosova~They dreamt of freedom, became a dream themselves."~
195 Bars | of my cell~(Te hekurat e frengjisë sime)~How sweetly the nightingale
196 Father| as sterile as oblivion,~A friend of mine who worked there~
197 Death | the hands of one of his friends.~Throw it at the feet~Of
198 Strike| corridor.~The cockroaches take fright. Look how they scuttle~Skull-less,
199 Day | Perhaps the branches of the fruit trees suffer?~Listen to
200 Far | mountains in the Balkans~Our future lies waiting. Like the nymphs
201 Death | killed)~And so, the chain gang returned to camp~With one
202 Death | feet~Of the officer at the gate,~In charge of the watchmen,~
203 Time | but the grain of life.~I gather the heads of grain as a
204 Father| of the nation. Like flies gathering over~The dead body of winter.
205 Cells | long time...~And, if we get out,~We lug them with us
206 Time | Massacred~And to wander as a ghost~Through bloody amnesia.~
207 Lips | Bloody lips~(Buzët mbi gjak)~The open wound~Of the gladiator~
208 Lips | gjak)~The open wound~Of the gladiator~Gurgles out life’s end.~
209 Room | love with the water~As it glides over and envelops your body~
210 Door | heavy wooden portal. It glitters all over~Like the phantasmal
211 Door | book~Never published.~The gnarls flushing so florid~Like
212 Father| From the last World War,~Gnawed on, like desperation.~It
213 Day | drenched,~But their chirping is golden nonetheless,~Just as in
214 Far | over to read our fate,~My good Serb? Behind yonder mountains
215 Cells | a porter with a chest of goods.~(1980)~~ ~
216 Father| me, met at that play~And got married (and they’re not
217 Prison| and son.~There are also a grandfather and grandson in prison.~
218 Prison| are also a grandfather and grandson in prison.~A father-in-law
219 Far | not turn the cradles into graves, I added sighing,~One’s
220 Office| the door of the tyrant’s great office,~How odd, I’m filled
221 Strike| Hunger strike~(Grevë urie)~Even within prison~
222 Time | centuries with the dead~And it grows but the grain of life.~I
223 Strike| ahead and die!" said the guard on the first day,~On the
224 Father| the teachings.~While the guards were unloading banned books~
225 Office| the dismantling of a guillotine.~Neither occupation, nor
226 Office| abyss of convictions. No gun barrels~Emerging from the
227 Lips | open wound~Of the gladiator~Gurgles out life’s end.~The cries
228 Father| works. They had sent them to Hades.~Hidden behind walls of
229 Office| tyranny...~The noise of the hammers was like~
230 Father| during the dictatorship~Me in handcuffs~ they dragged
231 Office| hanging by the hair.~(Tirana, 22
232 Father| Forget not Çameria and hapless Kosova~They dreamt of freedom,
233 Strike| sixth day. In fact~Nothing happened. The seventh day hid~Behind
234 Office| crystal chandelier~Like a head chopped off,~
235 Father| us!~My father~Who art in heaven and under earth...~My father
236 Room | Like rain blessed by the heavens,~Pours over our naked bodies.~
237 Door | eyes are fixed upon the heavy wooden portal. It glitters
238 Bars | the bars of my cell~(Te hekurat e frengjisë sime)~How sweetly
239 Death | by the dead prisoner~Is held in the hands of one of his
240 Father| and they’re not called Helen~Or Paris). Engaged under
241 Strike| happened. The seventh day hid~Behind the ninth. The first
242 Father| had sent them to Hades.~Hidden behind walls of fear, we
243 Room | Then come the clouds on high,~And then the rain,~Washing
244 Strike| Before the November national holiday.~The death of the tyrant
245 Father| died blind, like a begging Homer,~And my mother stopped sewing
246 Room | neither claws,~ nor horns.~The shower weeps a torrent
247 Father| burned,~Should it be found. A hostile leaflet. Against the teachings.~
248 Day | and amazement - not even humans,~ If they drenched
249 Office| here!~Before my very eyes hung a crystal chandelier~Like
250 Strike| Hunger strike~(Grevë urie)~Even
251 Room | Throw aside our boots,~And hustle off to the shower room.~
252 Father| father’s poem, his poor ‘Iliad,’~Published in many a newspaper
253 Office| pallid~As if just over a long illness.~... they were destroying
254 Father| Within the walls of the New Illyria.~~
255 Death | Death impresses no one here~(Vdekja këtu
256 Lips | Waving their arms about, to incite the masses,~The aging notables
257 Day | it in blood, could do it.~Innocent droplets of rain~Make almost
258 Room | wash the exhaustion,~The insults,~The mire of death off your
259 Office| There was no whirlpool of intrigues,~No abyss of convictions.
260 Room | bewildered,~Could faint for joy,~Fall in love with the water~
261 Room | Qafë-Bari prison camp, July 1983)~~
262 Lips | k~
263 Prison| in the pouch~Of a crazed kangaroo.~You may despair,~But be
264 Cells | In our cells~They keep us in our cells~For a long
265 Death | Vdekja këtu nuk trondit kërkënd)~The tunnel caved in~And
266 Death | impresses no one here~(Vdekja këtu nuk trondit kërkënd)~The
267 Office| fear again, a different kind of fear.~I thought the walls
268 Bars | in warbles~And I, on my knees,~Picked them up one by one~
269 Prison| prison, big prison~Do you know the two brothers in prison?~
270 Room | grave.~We put out our oil lamps,~Throw aside our boots,~
271 Far | about Kosova in a third language.~It used to be the cradle
272 Prison| and his wife,~(His love languishes in the women's ward~Over
273 Strike| of light from somewhere~Lay in the room~Like vomit from
274 Father| behind walls of fear, we leafed through it:~"Forget not
275 Father| Should it be found. A hostile leaflet. Against the teachings.~
276 | less
277 Day | hands it has washed out the letters "A. P. L."~I stand in awe
278 Room | body.~The beloved water licks me with its tongue,~Soothing
279 Far | in the Balkans~Our future lies waiting. Like the nymphs
280 Strike| seams of memory.~Patches of light from somewhere~Lay in the
281 Father| became a dream themselves."~Lines worthy of the nation. Like
282 Day | the fruit trees suffer?~Listen to the murmuring of the
283 Lips | wounds~And, to prolong their lives - so they believe,~Suck,
284 Death | You are neither among the living~Nor among the dead.~You
285 Strike| cockroaches take fright. Look how they scuttle~Skull-less,
286 Far | Belgrade.~So let us not lose it accidentally, I added.~
287 Cells | And, if we get out,~We lug them with us on our shoulders,~
288 Room | Einstein,~ lunar.~Now I can fly~Far, far
289 Lips | the Nation is abandoned.~(Lushnjë, 1987)~~ ~
290 Strike| example, if you do not work.~Lying on the floorboards~Of your
291 Office| great office,~How odd, I’m filled with fear again,
292 Father| of the cutting machine,~Into the mouth of the Minotaur,
293 Lips | of dignity to the arena.~Making their separate entries,
294 | many
295 Father| met at that play~And got married (and they’re not called
296 Time | to be buried twice over.~Massacred~And to wander as a ghost~
297 Prison| Of a crazed kangaroo.~You may despair,~But be steadfast!~~
298 Lips | Bloody lips~(Buzët mbi gjak)~The open wound~Of
299 Far | you have rights.~So, you mean, we should have had more
300 Room | entirely,~Not by the snow which melts~And fills the mighty rivers.~
301 Strike| Skull-less, out of the seams of memory.~Patches of light from somewhere~
302 Strike| stubborn as an ass.~The men from the command came ~
303 Father| old people,~They told me, met at that play~And got married (
304 Office| like the eyes of metal detectors.~I stood silent,
305 Office| cholera~Spread by mice in the Middle Ages, nor world wars~Brought
306 Room | which melts~And fills the mighty rivers.~Far from the sea~
307 Office| be made~Of the skulls of ministers shot dead.~The floorboards
308 Father| machine,~Into the mouth of the Minotaur, and surreptitiously~Extracted
309 Room | exhaustion,~The insults,~The mire of death off your ribs,~
310 Father| a begging Homer,~And my mother stopped sewing during the
311 Day | television antennas.~I have a mountain before me.~There was a slogan
312 Far | good Serb? Behind yonder mountains in the Balkans~Our future
313 Father| cutting machine,~Into the mouth of the Minotaur, and surreptitiously~
314 Office| this much-dreaded office, here!~Before my
315 Day | sky.~Earth has turned to mud. What of it?~The heart of
316 Day | trees suffer?~Listen to the murmuring of the burdens~
317 Strike| bread, scampering about,~Musical notes on the scores of...
318 Lips | n~
319 Strike| Christ~Before the November national holiday.~The death of the
320 Day | events~ Quite natural.~~
321 Office| tyrant’s one-time office, near which I work~(Zyra e dikurshme
322 Office| floorboards did not crackle nervously,~There was no whirlpool
323 Father| Iliad,’~Published in many a newspaper at the time~And turned into
324 Father| unloading banned books~And old newspapers from a truck~At the paper
325 Bars | frengjisë sime)~How sweetly the nightingale sang~Through the iron bars
326 Strike| seventh day hid~Behind the ninth. The first year of Christ~
327 Day | A rainy day~(Një ditë shiu)~It rains~And
328 Office| symbols of tyranny...~The noise of the hammers was like~
329 | nonetheless
330 Door | locked door.~It must be noon by now, sunlight outside.~
331 Lips | incite the masses,~The aging notables add an air of dignity to
332 Strike| scampering about,~Musical notes on the scores of... doctrine.~
333 Strike| year of Christ~Before the November national holiday.~The death
334 Death | no one here~(Vdekja këtu nuk trondit kërkënd)~The tunnel
335 Far | future lies waiting. Like the nymphs it rises from the waters~
336 Father| as sterile as oblivion,~A friend of mine who worked
337 Office| tyrant’s great office,~How odd, I’m filled with fear again,
338 Death | Throw it at the feet~Of the officer at the gate,~In charge of
339 Room | the grave.~We put out our oil lamps,~Throw aside our boots,~
340 | once
341 Office| The tyrant’s one-time office, near which I work~(
342 | only
343 Office| cilës punoj)~Cautiously I opened the door of the tyrant’s
344 | Or
345 Father| But the partisans~Ordered that the poem be burned,~
346 Door | be noon by now, sunlight outside.~My eyes are fixed upon
347 Day | washed out the letters "A. P. L."~I stand in awe and
348 Father| Poema e babait)~Yellowing pages~From the last World War,~
349 Room | Far, far away...~Vaporized pain.~(Qafë-Bari prison camp,
350 Office| detectors.~I stood silent, pallid~As if just over a long illness.~...
351 Father| they’re not called Helen~Or Paris). Engaged under the occupation...~
352 Father| But the partisans~Ordered that the poem be
353 Strike| of the seams of memory.~Patches of light from somewhere~
354 Father| cinema in Tirana... Two old people,~They told me, met at that
355 Time | second time over~(Varrimet për së dyti)~Never to die~And
356 Father| And turned into a play... performed~At the Kosova cinema in
357 Door | glitters all over~Like the phantasmal cover of a book~Never published.~
358 Bars | warbles~And I, on my knees,~Picked them up one by one~Like
359 Lips | veins~As if into sewage pipes,~And thus the Heart of the
360 Time | cover up the crime.~The Plain of Kosova~Has been sown
361 Day | of it?~The heart of the planet is made of fire, of ardent
362 Room | death off your ribs,~Sublime pleasure,~Standing in the steam,~
363 Father| of mine who worked there~Plunged his hands into the blades~
364 Father| My father's poem~(Poema e babait)~Yellowing pages~
365 Door | Cutting off twigs~Is a sore point wherever you go.~(Qafë Bari
366 Father| is my father’s poem, his poor ‘Iliad,’~Published in many
367 Door | fixed upon the heavy wooden portal. It glitters all over~Like
368 Cells | on our shoulders,~Like a porter with a chest of goods.~(
369 Lips | Their withered lips they pose~Upon the fresh flowing wounds~
370 Prison| prison~Is like a baby in the pouch~Of a crazed kangaroo.~You
371 Room | blessed by the heavens,~Pours over our naked bodies.~You
372 Office| dikurshme e diktatorit, pranë së cilës punoj)~Cautiously
373 Room | Far from the sea~Are the prisons,~Full of dead waves of life.~
374 Lips | fresh flowing wounds~And, to prolong their lives - so they believe,~
375 Office| diktatorit, pranë së cilës punoj)~Cautiously I opened the
376 Room | shadows from the grave.~We put out our oil lamps,~Throw
377 Door | point wherever you go.~(Qafë Bari prison camp, 1985)~~
378 Room | away...~Vaporized pain.~(Qafë-Bari prison camp, July 1983)~~
379 Day | almost all events~ Quite natural.~~
380 Lips | stands~Fill the sky with raging tigers.~Waving their arms
381 Day | A rainy day~(Një ditë shiu)~It rains~
382 | rather
383 Lips | so they believe,~Suck, ravenously suck out the blood, blood,
384 Father| And got married (and they’re not called Helen~Or Paris).
385 Far | we turn our cups over to read our fate,~My good Serb?
386 Room | wash,~And fall into another reality,~ Einstein,~
387 Room | the steam,~As if in the realm of sleep~You suddenly see
388 Strike| with their heads bowed, reflecting ~In the dish of cold soup.~
389 Death | And so, the chain gang returned to camp~With one man less,~
390 Room | bodies.~You revel,~Are bewildered,~Could faint
391 Room | The mire of death off your ribs,~Sublime pleasure,~Standing
392 Time | To have them shovel the rich soil~Over your face~And
393 Day | has effaced the slogan, right in the open daylight,~With
394 Far | waiting. Like the nymphs it rises from the waters~Which flow
395 Room | melts~And fills the mighty rivers.~Far from the sea~Are the
396 Day | above the rain,~Nothing can rot the sky.~Earth has turned
397 Room | yourself~In a dream...~You rub your shoulders,~Scrub your
398 Strike| Dance back and forth,~A cry runs barefoot~Down the corridor.~
399 Far | the cities...~(Bucharest, s.d.)~~
400 Bars | sweetly the nightingale sang~Through the iron bars of
401 Strike| vomit from a sick day.~(Saturday, 4 February 1984)~~
402 Father| winter. What are you saying? Save us!~My father~Who art in
403 Death | charge of the watchmen,~And say: "Count it, are we all here?"~
404 Father| of winter. What are you saying? Save us!~My father~Who
405 Strike| mice were eating the bread, scampering about,~Musical notes on
406 Strike| about,~Musical notes on the scores of... doctrine.~The walls~
407 Room | You rub your shoulders,~Scrub your arms, belly and thighs,~
408 Strike| take fright. Look how they scuttle~Skull-less, out of the seams
409 Room | mighty rivers.~Far from the sea~Are the prisons,~Full of
410 Strike| scuttle~Skull-less, out of the seams of memory.~Patches of light
411 Room | realm of sleep~You suddenly see yourself~In a dream...~You
412 Father| And his works. They had sent them to Hades.~Hidden behind
413 Day | already in prison, they sentence you again.~The rain has
414 Lips | the arena.~Making their separate entries, they~
415 Far | to read our fate,~My good Serb? Behind yonder mountains
416 Far | used to be the cradle of Serbia, he said, so we have rights,~
417 Strike| fact~Nothing happened. The seventh day hid~Behind the ninth.
418 Lips | filthy veins~As if into sewage pipes,~And thus the Heart
419 Father| Homer,~And my mother stopped sewing during the dictatorship~
420 Room | Soothing me all over.~The shadow of the barbed wire,~
421 Room | black mine~Like twilight shadows from the grave.~We put out
422 | Shall
423 Death | here?"~Take the jacket~And shield Albania's trembling shoulders.~(
424 Day | A rainy day~(Një ditë shiu)~It rains~And rains~And
425 Prison| the women's ward~Over hair shorn,~ like a blackbird~
426 Office| the skulls of ministers shot dead.~The floorboards did
427 Time | bloody amnesia.~To have them shovel the rich soil~Over your
428 Strike| the room~Like vomit from a sick day.~(Saturday, 4 February
429 Far | cradles into graves, I added sighing,~One’s country is an accident,
430 Bars | Te hekurat e frengjisë sime)~How sweetly the nightingale
431 | since
432 Strike| the fifth.~Then came the sixth day. In fact~Nothing happened.
433 Room | Stretches sombre on my skin~And I wash and wash,~And
434 Strike| fright. Look how they scuttle~Skull-less, out of the seams of memory.~
435 Office| would surely be made~Of the skulls of ministers shot dead.~
436 Room | like a tattoo on a slave,~Stretches sombre on my
437 Room | steam,~As if in the realm of sleep~You suddenly see yourself~
438 Room | burgosurve)~We, the prisoners,~Slip out of the black mine~Like
439 Room | abandoned entirely,~Not by the snow which melts~And fills the
440 Prison| wings clipped that it not soar).~There is also a family
441 Time | have them shovel the rich soil~Over your face~And not to
442 Room | tattoo on a slave,~Stretches sombre on my skin~And I wash and
443 | some
444 | Someone
445 | somewhere
446 Prison| brothers,~And a father and son.~There are also a grandfather
447 Prison| prison.~A father-in-law and a son-in-law,~A man and his wife,~(His
448 Room | licks me with its tongue,~Soothing me all over.~The shadow
449 Door | Cutting off twigs~Is a sore point wherever you go.~(
450 Strike| reflecting ~In the dish of cold soup.~The dish was the eye of
451 Time | Plain of Kosova~Has been sown for centuries with the dead~
452 Office| thought the walls would be spattered~
453 Far | from Belgrade,~We spoke about Kosova in a third
454 Office| earthquakes, nor cholera~Spread by mice in the Middle Ages,
455 Strike| first day,~On the second he squeaked like a torn boot,~On the
456 Strike| third he fell silent.~The stains on the wall trembled in
457 Day | the letters "A. P. L."~I stand in awe and amazement - not
458 Room | ribs,~Sublime pleasure,~Standing in the steam,~As if in the
459 Lips | of acclamation from the stands~Fill the sky with raging
460 Room | pleasure,~Standing in the steam,~As if in the realm of sleep~
461 Father| as sterile as oblivion,~A friend of
462 | still
463 Day | on it, written in white stone,~If you do not accept it,
464 Office| eyes of metal detectors.~I stood silent, pallid~As if just
465 Father| begging Homer,~And my mother stopped sewing during the dictatorship~
466 Room | like a tattoo on a slave,~Stretches sombre on my skin~And I
467 Strike| Hunger strike~(Grevë urie)~Even within
468 Strike| was delayed. ~He was as stubborn as an ass.~The men from
469 Room | of death off your ribs,~Sublime pleasure,~Standing in the
470 Room | in the realm of sleep~You suddenly see yourself~In a dream...~
471 Door | It must be noon by now, sunlight outside.~My eyes are fixed
472 Far | superfluous.~Shall we turn our cups
473 Office| ashtrays on the long desk would surely be made~Of the skulls of
474 Father| mouth of the Minotaur, and surreptitiously~Extracted my father’s poem,
475 Bars | hekurat e frengjisë sime)~How sweetly the nightingale sang~Through
476 Office| they were destroying the symbols of tyranny...~The noise
477 Far | our countries, like two Tantaluses~We drank coffee: I and a
478 Room | wire,~ like a tattoo on a slave,~Stretches sombre
479 Bars | At the bars of my cell~(Te hekurat e frengjisë sime)~
480 Room | prison shower room~(Banjoja e të burgosurve)~We, the prisoners,~
481 Father| hostile leaflet. Against the teachings.~While the guards were unloading
482 Room | shower weeps a torrent of tears~Over feeble, wounded,~
483 Day | are drenched~As are the television antennas.~I have a mountain
484 Time | grain as a last wish and testament,~Make a bundle and whimper.~
485 | themselves
486 Room | Scrub your arms, belly and thighs,~Finding nothing foreign
487 Office| different kind of fear.~I thought the walls would be spattered~
488 Prison| wire,~Sentenced to three thousand years. Before Christ.~Our
489 | thus
490 Lips | Fill the sky with raging tigers.~Waving their arms about,
491 Far | the forests and, naked, timidly~Approach the cities...~(
492 Strike| cell, you have not eaten today,~Nor yesterday, nor the
493 | together
494 Father| Two old people,~They told me, met at that play~And
495 Room | water licks me with its tongue,~Soothing me all over.~The
496 Strike| second he squeaked like a torn boot,~On the third he fell
497 Room | horns.~The shower weeps a torrent of tears~Over feeble, wounded,~
498 Bars | iron bars of my window,~Transforming the very iron~
499 Bars | verdant branches of a cherry tree.~The floor was covered in
500 Day | the branches of the fruit trees suffer?~Listen to the murmuring