Symphony of my soul
At the height of the day, living outdoors,
the wind like a coil around my throat,
The sad sun moves gently on the shore,
Symphony of my soul, the cries stopped.
Under a silky shirt, deep at midnight,
Riddles of dreams trace the planets,
Through veins they flow in the fiery cup,
Like lifeless poppies, memories in goblets.
Wrinkles of verse deep in the womb,
murmuring voices lingering in the dark,
Nailed with words the mirror of the moon,
the clarity of eyes, arrived in the hearts.
Translation from Albanian into English
By Alfred Kola
