Fatime Kulli (Albania)

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Fatime Kulli, poet, writer, publicist, journalist, Albania

Fatime Kulli was born on 1957 in Durrës. She finished her higher studies in Social Science for Psychology at University of Tirana.

Fatime Kulli, is an author of 20 books, poetry, prose, researches, literary critics, awarded with several prizes inside the country and abroad: Award "Radio Ulcinj" Montenegro (2000). "Golden Pen" for the book “The Sea sinks inside the shell” in Kumanova, Macedonia (2001). First place for the most beautiful lyric poetry about love, on Balkan Poetry meetings in Korça (2003). “Golden Pen” in Athens (2004).
Second place, at the poetry meetings in Napoli, Italy (June 2004). First Prize at the Meeting of Women Poets, Vushtri June 2008, Kosovo. “Skampini” Prize on Balkan Poetry Meetings in Elbasan (14 March 2009). First Prize in Balkan  Poetry meetings in Korça (2010). She has participated in several international poetic meetings. Author in several anthologies of poetry, in many countries, such as Greece, Germany, France, Macedonia, Kosovo, Croatia, Romania etc. She has been awarded at the Academy of Sciences, Tirana (14 June 2014) with the title "Ambassador of Peace", as the poet of Çameria, by the Universal Federation of Peace.


PUBLICATIONS IN POETRY

Fatime Kulli has 11 volumes of poetry published over the years, which have been praised by the critics, among which are:

1- Leave me the door open
2- Naked on the keyboard
3- Masturbation with the sun
4- I want my heart as a mirror
5- The naked fevers - Albanian- Italian
6- Spark of ember
7- The sea sinks inside the shell
8- Sweating rose
9- 111 dirty words of love
10- Womb of Fire
11- Shoes of fog
12- This is the 12th poetry book with the title “Beyond the shadow”


1-THE CRASHED MOON…

On August of the wild flame
I squeeze broken colors…
Shadow’s tranquility makes me tremble
Hanged on the day fingers.
I gather the sun flakes
A water-flower whisper.

The air cord gets cut off
On the eye of pain…
In the glade of tears
I eat the weight of the remaining breath…

I feel the breath of shadow
It drinks the air of my song
And ignites me
Cutting the veins
Of the broken moon…
The sky has gone wild
At the disfavor of fruits
The Earth-cave
Strawberries.

I follow the steps of shadow
It touches my bones
Troubled ones…
The leafs of softness
Make plants flourish
At the steps of the rock
That makes the N-I-G-H-T-M-A-R-E flow…
  

2-MY WHITE DESPAIR

They humiliate me, they call me “quean”
They draw my portrait with a paintbrush of nail,
They spot me like the black sheep separated from the herd...
And accuse me for writing avant-garde poetries,
What should I do, that my poetry is what feeds the soul
Not only for me, but also for women with childish smiles,
That read my poetries secretly from their men
Like “The apple of sin” cause of the disgusting moral,
That triumphs across the crowd as an honest one.
But what should I do, that my sinful poetries
Scare even the shepherd,
Who after reading these poetries with thirsty hunger,
Runs with his stick in hands to punish me...!

The disgusting moral tries to rip out my veins of feeling
To kill my poetic spirit, to change its destination, colours...
But I’m not afraid of him, I write screaming,
I tack in every verse cell, like a bloody flower
For love, for the woman’s eyes crying, wounded,
For the tired soul, exhausted from the desecration of morality.

The angry notes of the preachy crowd tremble,
My fingers dive in the metaphors of life,
Where the membranes take fire in the verse of poetry...
The voice of God, tells me: there is life in darkness,
There is hope in the desert, light in the blindness,
Spirit of love, there is balance in the universe,
Even the wounded sounds pulse in deafness...
My white, strong despair doesn’t tremble
Even as they insult me, offend my morality...
I am a WOMAN, I keep writing poetries for love,
The one pure, attractive road that gives me life,
The soul scream that in front of the verse makes me die...!


3-UNDER ACROBATIC SOUNDS

The breath gurgles with a poisonous taste
Through the narrow path of the sun
Covered with the snakeskin
Like a dreamer for the blooming of EGO...

The air spreads and becomes depressed
Under the sweet storm of deception
The forks keep chewing newsletters,
Nailing eyes strike the sunny ones...

The darkness has sharpened its claws,
Tearing the deaf dreams apart
The capillaries of mind
Wounded in their desire clash
Against the false grace...  

I strive to escape the thorns
The walls of servility ambush me...                             
 I live within the roots of wisdom
The forks dance under acrobatic sounds...


4-STORMS

The Twenty-first century
Wanders orderly over the victims
Exploding
The blood drops flow like a river
On the world screens…
My motherly soul suffers…
Whispering the wailings and injustices…
I see even the worn sun
The candlesticks of the new human have been discolored
 The shoulders of soul can’t bear the horror!

We see little snakes, large, greedy ones
Turning into vampires in front of humans…
The soles of feet with blood traces
Trample on the pain of thousand women around the world…

Shshtt, shshtt... shshtt....
Keeps murmuring the love
That has been silently killed…
The soul of women roars from the abyss:
Expunge the rancor, turn off the envy, extinguish the infidelity,
Bring the light to our eyes!
The scarf of love
Tie it around your soul, human,
Shine light in the space, and goodness for the humans!

Often they pray and beg in front of the icon:
St. Mary, pray for the lives of our children,
Heal this century of storms…
Punish the evil, the greed,
The sale of freedom of small nations!
Bless the peace for all people in this world…


5-UNDER THE WATERS OF SUNSET

I tied the tears behind the sunset
To feel the smell of longing
The veins of time have been dimmed of brightness,
 I drag myself at the rings of silence
That break the ancient stones
Towards the flow of tempests…

I tremble when the wind shakes my tears
A childish mirror confuses me
When thousands of smiles play
Hanged on the innocence of brightness
Of the mythic girls…

It comes in my mind an old dream
Which I harvested at the sands of water
Flourishing in the soul of flowers of silence

I tremble when the mountain stones
Talk so delicately in the house of my soul,
They beautify my body with necklace of happiness,
Inside the pages of the calendar diving
And I sail under the waters of sunset…

Trying to keep the most beautiful dream
So the world of greatness may not lose the continuity.

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