ndricim-ademaj
Albanian
Ndriçim Ademaj was born in Prizren, Kosova. / His first book of poetry" Kërkoj diellin"("Looking for the Sun") was published in 2008 and "Dera"("The Door"), 2011. The last book (“Dera”) is republished in Tirana (2012) .His work has also been featured in different national and international literary magazines. / He resides in Geneve. / / Contact: / Ndriçim Ademaj / +377 44 676 106 / [email protected] / https: //www.facebook.com/NdricimAdemaj
A night falls
before autumn’s last day
the last leaf in the Horse-dealers street
An old woman is casting a spell
with the last knot she owns
for your forgetfulness
I see you in the ***** globe
you are still wearing the white shirt
you are still not giving up yourself to the longing
and to come back home
one day you will come back, I know
one day you will abandon everything
in the streets of San Francisco
everything you earned,
you will give it to a blind harmonica man
who plays our song
that’s enough for you to break the magic
of the world of dreams
and to come back
The last leaf in Horse-dealers street
is falling with my hair on the pillow
this is my last night here
my last knot here
old women are casting a spell
wondering why you are still here,
why did you come back...
©Ndriçim Ademaj
May 17, 2012
May 17, 2012 at 2:24 PM UTC
It is snowing
it is getting dyed in gray through women hair
that are waiting for the bus
nobody notices them
no one they notice…
under the bare tree as stripteasers
and those men who betrayed their wives,
and those women who betrayed their men
are waiting for the bus to take them to their homes
it is cold,
children are learning by heart
a poem about spring,
and I am trying to learn
how to love you in winter
the bus is coming
with people hanging in a doorway
as pieces of broken ice
thieves are stealing what is left
from autumn loves,
the bus came and took everything
even you…
©Ndriçim Ademaj
May 15, 2012
May 15, 2012 at 2:36 PM UTC
I know that once I have loved you,
on a date that I can't remember well...
it was cold that night
it could have been winter, anyhow
you were unwashed, nameless
without perfume and a beer
desanctifed a hundred times,
but I have loved you
more than all the saints of the world
yes, I've been waiting for you too long,
but you didn't stay long enough
anyhow we'd still do the usual
**** that little love from our sweaty skin
then we would say to each other
'Good night, you are better than her'
Once i have loved you
on a date I can't remember quite well...
more than all the saints of the world,
the impotents that never knew how to love the way we do
and what they did when you went crazy while orgasming?
gave you flowers, sorted out the words
for their sterile loves
and didn't want any of them then,
so you wanted me
a wild haired stud
a descantified sinner for you
one hundred times,
we knew,
love was just an ordinary *****
and we were like that
not sacred as that day had to be
so I don't remember it quite well
and you haven't forgotten it, I know...
©Ndriçim Ademaj
May 15, 2012
May 15, 2012 at 2:31 PM UTC