After the separation
She left me forever that night
And I struggled like a banneret
With pain I returned on the long path,
When the last snow had melted.
The fireplace of the house was sparking,
Clogs and pots creaked in the alcoves,
My dog for me in the garden was waiting
Like old Argus use to wait for Odysseus.
The horns of the oxen pecked in the cradle
And their noses made the air moist;
In the darkly sky rags of clouds
They bandaged the moon as a wound…
Translation from Albanian to English by Taena Mata
