Gracias Miss Albania

Hoy conocí a uno de esos ángeles de Albania

que también le gusta La Opera

y es fan de La Boheme como mi abuelo

me conto de Ermonela Jaho y de Ervin Hatibi

me explico que si no tienes argumentos

es cuando alzas tu voz.

Me canto a mi corazón y la amé por 1 minuto.

Gracias  Fatmira Allmuça



It looks like they’re all turning around
To stare at me as I live
And feel and blush.
I know
I reek of olives,
They are stars,
Scribbled vertically
In a parish roster,
Sewn into my lungs
With the threads I once bit off
My grandmother’s black scarf
(in which I often found her grey hairs).
On wretched nights I extract them, thorns
From my ankles, these Gothic olives, these daytime stars.
With them I adorn my room,
The commonplace Christmas trees
Of my lonely existence.
I also like to write poems.