ilire-zajmi
Albanian
Ilire Zajmi is born in city of Prizren, south of Kosovo on 16.10.1971. / Ilire Zajmi writes poetry, prose, essays. Her poems have been translated into English, Italian, French, Romanian. Ilire Zajmi until now published: “Morning Bells”, 1991, Pristina, Art Makers Forum, poetry collection, “Fading of rebel dreams” , novel, Art Makers Forum, 1996, Pristina; 'Un treno per Blace' Ilire Zajmi - Filippo Landi, Edizioni la Meridiana, Molfetta Bari - Italy, 1999, “White Balad” “ poetry collection , Sfinga, 2000, Pristina; / “Një tren për Bllacë”,publicistic book , 2011, Saga Publishing house Pristina. / “Power of television images”, study, 2011, Rozafa publishing house, Pristina / “Amnesia” poem collection, 2011, Corpos Editora, Porto, Portugal. / She is winer of special price for poetry “Venttenale” in the international poetry contest of Center for poetry and youth held in Triuggio, Milan -Italy in the 20 edition 2011. / .
Black coffee in a white cup
Half awaken for a new day.
Coffee without sugar to sweeten
Day spring arise sad in one January day.
Coffee with friends at noon
To embroilment stubborn world.
Dusk coffee associated with tobacco
To **** troubles and have fun
Up to lunacy.
One coffee, two coffee, three coffee
To **** grieving
When you are desperate
Dark coffee, macchiato, espresso
To celebrate defeated King’s victory.
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 3:45 PM UTC
Trampled by thousand’s feet’s
Shoes boots sandals
Dusty patent *****
Cleaned polluted washed
Sometimes full of passengers
From voices running wild
Sometimes completely desert
Invoking sadness and misery.
Roads where we walk every day
Roads we love roads we hate
Roads of life and death
Roads roads roads
That lead us to nowhere.
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 3:43 PM UTC
They trade with my dream
training their skills
They shop with my temper
dabble their patience
They bet for my breast
Measure their libido
They drink for my health
get drunk with their money
They are sleepless
Concerned about my problems
They hire a private detective
to write my black biography
counting my lovers.
For all the time
For them
I’m at the public auction
And they try to steal my eye
To **** my dream to push me in the hinterland
And to play play with me.
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 3:31 PM UTC
Breakfast
Brings the stunning fragrance of your body.
Lunch
Taste of your kiss a nip in my breast
Dinner
Insidious runaway after a cup of love.
Night ...
Bind wounds of the day with bandages of memories
Aug 1, 2012
Aug 1, 2012 at 6:08 AM UTC
I believe in a new day
Old days have imprisoned me
In the vanity dreams and paradox
I believe in the future
Today has abandoned me
I feel like an old unused rug
I believe in true love
The old has passed unnoticed before my eyes
I believe I believe I believe...
What if the past
Present
And the future
Are only optical trick
Of human life.
Apr 30, 2012
Apr 30, 2012 at 3:45 AM UTC
All day long
I stare at people walking by
I drink bitter coffee, smoke cheap cigarettes
In front and behind my back I don’t see anyone
I flirt with men that I don’t like
Tell jokes and don’t laugh
Write poems in the moonlight
And rip them under sunlight
Given promises in the morning
In the evening I forget
I walk away from life and she taunts me
I’m frightened from forgetfulness
More than I do from the fire
And I feel lonely
As a wounded beast in the cage
Will I be completely Dead
when I die?
Apr 30, 2012
Apr 30, 2012 at 3:43 AM UTC
If I say loneliness is easy it’s a lie
It is heavier than a bullet much blacker than death.
If I say white knights have fun in the brothels
And live from ***** jobs you know this.
If a say waiting is a torment when you don’t know what you‘re
waiting for
Christopher Columbus don’t call me I have not discovered a
continent.
If I say happiness is an optical trick
Just crazy people enjoy this life you know this.
If I say that love will knock at your door
To make you feel like a woman trust my words.
Your destiny nobody will sign.
Apr 30, 2012
Apr 30, 2012 at 3:41 AM UTC
And a day will come
When I will tell all untold words
Secrets that I have saved more than
King Solomon his treasure.
The truths that I had buried in the depths of my soul
Promises that took the wind
Dreams that died at birth
Desires that were always just shadows.
And a day will come
When you will confess all about You
Seeking to shelter in my temple
Kindly not deceiving me with celestial love
Saying that you find out who You are and who I ‘ m
Then
Only then you will understand
That you were never a King
And I was never a Cinderella.
Apr 24, 2012
Apr 24, 2012 at 9:58 AM UTC