In October, in groves gilded in pride,
Throughout my body, I shudder so much
I soften and I resemble a child
That gets so sad of the slightest touch.
I start recalling… for bitter grieves,
I’ve no soul strength to leave tears apart.
For in this world, I’ve no relatives
To share the sorrows in my frank heart!
To whom to talk? Who remembers me?
Friends? A lass that’s for lust in crave,
Over someone’s chest, embraced in a lea,
Mentions my name only in rave?
Oh, how I shudder! My life, constrained,
Appears to me amid waves and storms…
I wonder myself how I’ve remained,
So fragile in spirit, so childish in form!
Translation from Albanian into English
By Alfred Kola