Rami Kamberi (Macedonia)

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Rami Kamberi (Macedonia)

Member of Board of International Poetical Galaxy ATUNIS

He was born in 1960 in the village of Gajre in Tetovo. He attended primary and secondary school in Tetovo. Undergraduate and postgraduate studies were attended in Prishtina, at the Faculty of Philology – Branch of Literature and Albanian Language. He writes poetry and prose, and deals with literary criticism, journalism and historiography.

He lives and works in Tetovo. He has published:

“Eyes Sharri and Kosovo”,

“Is aging the freedom? “,

“The tombs have clocks?”

“Viewpoint “,

“The icon of slogan freedom “

ON THE WINGS OF A DREAM

On the wings of a dream – Satan has ruined my painting

Angry wolves, stirred by centuries – bite my skin.

The moon did not sound – dark even more darkness

The stars beyond this sky – lay flowers, like jinn of hell

I say: I have a lot of tears – like eyes under the hat of the blue sky.

I give the skin along with the stature – but the paintbrush and pen don’t get me neither the sun.

BETWEEN ELECTIONS AND RESOLUTIONS

Between elections and resolution – the words frozen the lips

After the grille, the scars were scorched – the eyes are eaten by the ravens and the glances get dark

People reappeared by the weight of the word – ‘The rich people ‘ cheered, each other told me you were kidding

The wolf with the change of the weather in time- require blood

The cradles hanging – the lute says the wire is aging ..

The Bigmother shake the headscarf with the last will for the earth – save me a handful of clay for the tomb

The painter paints Albania-like a hundred years ago

The poet begs the Lord to leave me alive – between pens and sheets

Births say the word be brave – you are Albanians – do not live as fools.

  

SOMEONE …?!

somebody scrapes my wounds

someone kills me

patience of patience

someone says left

someone says right

patience is dead

someone turns my back on me

somebody damages me

someone tells me

don’t do nothing

and live like a dog

someone tells me

tomorrow you will not be who you are,

but a nothing in the new Europe

someone tells me to do the freedom

someone tells me to do the Albania.

POETRY SEPULTURE

The burden was buried – with the game of the weather

Hundreds of crowns – lined behind the first

Screams of water – they did not stop tear points

They prepared speeches – together and shared

They said amongst the people – it also goes to Kastrioti.

Some say this man of the homeland – he never dies

Even tears on the cheek – they were talking about bravery

The funeral sought to cover it – just with a flag

They were caught for hair – a poet like this greatest god.

Lined walk – the road to the tombs, like an army

With the collars for the throat – to prove they have power

They opened the funeral – they looked scary

Do not again – the poet’s pen will hit them

With testament – We live in bondage and not in freedom

To the beloved people – stop you walked in the delirium .

The words were heard – God hear us

we are lucky – no one else has the power to disturb us.

Setu, November 2018