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    Poetry                                    grey = Comment text

501 Strike|            The stains on the wall trembled in his face.~On the fourth
502 Death |       jacket~And shield Albania's trembling shoulders.~(9 March 1983)~~
503 Death |         one here~(Vdekja këtu nuk trondit kërkënd)~The tunnel caved
504 Father|         And old newspapers from a truck~At the paper factory,~To
505 Death |          nuk trondit kërkënd)~The tunnel caved in~And a prisoner
506 Time  |           to die~And to be buried twice over.~Massacred~And to wander
507 Door  |         fresh wounds.~Cutting off twigs~Is a sore point wherever
508 Room  |        out of the black mine~Like twilight shadows from the grave.~
509 Office|         destroying the symbols of tyranny...~The noise of the hammers
510 Death |       less,~With one corpse more,~Undelivered to its family for burial.~(
511 Father|  teachings.~While the guards were unloading banned books~And old newspapers
512 Strike|              Hunger strike~(Grevë urie)~Even within prison~There
513       | used
514 Room  |          can fly~Far, far away...~Vaporized pain.~(Qafë-Bari prison
515 Time  |        Buried a second time over~(Varrimet për së dyti)~Never to die~
516 Death |      Death impresses no one here~(Vdekja këtu nuk trondit kërkënd)~
517 Prison|         prison,~All together~They've been sentenced to over a
518 Lips  |          sun,~Flowing into filthy veins~As if into sewage pipes,~
519 Bars  |         iron~            into the verdant branches of a cherry tree.~
520 Strike|    somewhere~Lay in the room~Like vomit from a sick day.~(Saturday,
521 Far   |           Balkans~Our future lies waiting. Like the nymphs it rises
522 Strike|         silent.~The stains on the wall trembled in his face.~On
523 Time  |      twice over.~Massacred~And to wander as a ghost~Through bloody
524 Bars  |          The floor was covered in warbles~And I, on my knees,~Picked
525 Prison|         languishes in the women's ward~Over hair shorn,~            
526 Lips  |                 l  over the still warm corpses~Of the young. Their
527 Room  |     shower room.~Water - the only warmth we have,~Like rain blessed
528 Office|        the Middle Ages, nor world wars~Brought this cataclysm upon
529 Day   |          With watery hands it has washed out the letters "A. P. L."~
530 Room  |          high,~And then the rain,~Washing the naked nation - a prisoner'
531 Death |        the gate,~In charge of the watchmen,~And say: "Count it, are
532 Far   |          nymphs it rises from the waters~Which flow through the forests
533 Day   |           the open daylight,~With watery hands it has washed out
534 Room  |         the prisons,~Full of dead waves of life.~Then come the clouds
535 Lips  |           sky with raging tigers.~Waving their arms about, to incite
536 Death |             but the chains he was wearing have not yet been killed)~
537 Room  |             nor horns.~The shower weeps a torrent of tears~Over
538       | when
539       | wherever
540       | While
541 Time  |      testament,~Make a bundle and whimper.~The dead do not die
542 Office|           nervously,~There was no whirlpool of intrigues,~No abyss of
543       | whole
544 Prison|         son-in-law,~A man and his wife,~(His love languishes in
545       | will
546 Bars  |       Through the iron bars of my window,~Transforming the very iron~            
547 Father|   gathering over~The dead body of winter. What are you saying? Save
548 Time  |          heads of grain as a last wish and testament,~Make a bundle
549 Lips  |       corpses~Of the young. Their withered lips they pose~Upon the
550 Prison|        His love languishes in the women's ward~Over hair shorn,~            
551 Door  |          are fixed upon the heavy wooden portal. It glitters all
552 Day   |          burdens~            with words like "I love you" on their
553 Father|    oblivion,~A friend of mine who worked there~Plunged his hands
554 Father|        banned, the author~And his works. They had sent them to Hades.~
555 Death |         even a grave!)~The jacket worn by the dead prisoner~Is
556 Father|          dream themselves."~Lines worthy of the nation. Like flies
557 Lips  |          Buzët mbi gjak)~The open wound~Of the gladiator~Gurgles
558 Room  |     torrent of tears~Over feeble, wounded,~            blackened,~            
559 Day   |         There was a slogan on it, written in white stone,~If you do
560 Strike|           he said: "Eat!"~"What's wrong," he said on the fifth.~
561 Strike|       Behind the ninth. The first year of Christ~Before the November
562 Prison|       Sentenced to three thousand years. Before Christ.~Our little
563 Father|           s poem~(Poema e babait)~Yellowing pages~From the last World
564       | yet
565 Far   |        fate,~My good Serb? Behind yonder mountains in the Balkans~
566 Lips  |         still warm corpses~Of the young. Their withered lips they
567       | yourself
568 Office|        office, near which I work~(Zyra e dikurshme e diktatorit,