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.

Setu, June 2018