Lan Qyqalla, graduated from the Faculty of Philology in the branch of Albanian language and literature in Prishtina, from Republika of Kosovo. He is a professor of the Albanian language in the Gymnasium. He has written in many newspapers, portals, Radio, TV, and Magazines in the Albanian language and in English, Romanian, Francophone, Turkish, Arabic, Italian, Greek, Swedish, Spanish, etc.
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| Lan QYQALLA |
Lora
embroidered Valentine’s Day
on the map of love
Egnatia-Naisus street
and in passing I also took
the honey flavor
from the hot ashes
of the estinguished fire.
Lora
like a blonde ladybug in the meteorite
nobody whispers
on the map of love
and the star twister out of exhausted longing
in the timeless feeling
brought the freshness of age
the kiss of the mountain like Hera from Olympus
departed in the endless today
night.
Lora
frozen in heat
slightly heated to the bosom of love
"I'm very cold
Lan takes me with him
tonight
I do not want flowers
a white rose
to have for Valentine’s Day! "
***
THE POET'S MUSE
the poet,
They give the words a meadow color
evoke memories in torn maps
does not believe in the miracles of the Mountain Fairies
of the world forgives love!
The poet cooks the word
in the magic of poetry,
in the chain the verses of the verses
stigmatizes renegades
with the measure of memory
in the arboreal fireplace.
Poet, in verse
the storm and the sun in the sun bring,
the figures are planted with love,
under the word
it bakes a world
that you don't know
fused into crystal…
on the poetic harp you compress it.
The poet dreams
Aphrodite in the light of the lantern,
and he engraves the stalagmites in the cave
in the poetry book
***
On the way of studies
so often we travel
last night we broke up
e Lakrishtja took our memories,
that fire burns in us.
In the Poetic Autumn we met,
I brought the scent of flowers to Pristina
Clea anamala like acacia flower
the fragrant river pours.
In the amphitheater
lick like a nymph,
the mendesha path
shy among poets,
seek whiteness in the ideal.
Why we met in the autumn landscape
leave footprints on the boat on the ocean...
***
Hello! Hello!
the voice hums like in a cave,
I had forgotten the color of the voice
in this agn of late month.
Hello, hello...
the voice on the other side shuddered
in the raging river,
-Yes I am,..
here.closed in the ego
"gnosi" the lip timbre,
turmoil of times
or late spring?!
Hello, I'm Dorisa,
nothing important
in me the shadow of longing
affects the absorbed nectar
in search of immortality...
I clutch the phone
I feel stuck in water, who revives my fire?
Mekur in late May?!
Hello, Hello..., listen to me!
I am the sin-ridden Danaide,
why don't you talk to me
why are you silent?
...I can hear you on the other side,
I was disturbed by this phone call in the last month.
***
RAIN IN MY EYES
The rainbow appeared
behind the lines of rain,
the worries and troubles of stis,
carved verses
where the west burned,
in the braided flower,
we put a wreath.
You can't see the rainbow
it didn't rain a little,
in my eyes...!
***
AUTUMN LOVE IN PRISTINA
We met in the fall,
in the amphitheater you tweet...
the streets of Pristina,
in the cold night,
shoot me like a mountain fairy.
the stars were aligned
that summer evening in your tear,
we were both lost in the untouched oasis
and the lips stopped at the sounds FlokArt├л.
Why did we travel, tell me why
in the cold winter and snow,
the beaming sun gave us a gift,
you ray of sunshine lit me siashra.
Why did we run to the meadows, why
in the early spring fragrance of love
we pray to the flowers of the green field,
embraced we felt exotic intoxication.
***
Lani poet from Kosovo: We thank the editors of SETU magazine for publishing my poems, the poet from Kosovo. Respect!
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